Poor Devils
by Sopih
Summary: In which Amu joins an illustrious boarding school, and discovers she has a surprising roommate. Amuto. Permahiatus.
1. New roommate

First day.

Amu looked at the imposing building nervously, and wiped sweaty palms on her skirt. _What if they don't like me_? she thought, biting her lip awkwardly.

Unconsciously, she straightened up as she began to walk forwards. Her expression became aloof and cool, and her legs took longer strides. By the time she walked through the double gates, she was the picture of the idol that she'd been renowned for at her last school. A couple of students hanging around on the lawn looked up as she walked past, and one instantly turned to the other, whispering hurriedly under her breath.

"Amu Hinamori—she's so cool—I heard all the principals are scared of her—she's so pretty!"

And when she looked back, they both turned aside and stared at the floor, one tearing grass up absent mindedly between her fingers. Amu turned away again, sighing quietly under her breath. It wasn't _supposed_ to be like this. It really wasn't. As she opened the door, she let loose another sigh, right into the face of a boy coming the other way.

He smiled earnestly into her face, and she couldn't help being a little starstruck. _Wow… he's so… _Pretty should be the wrong word, she thought, but it wasn't. He _was_ pretty, in an adorable girlish way. Not that that was bad, she added hastily. He had such nice hair…

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she had to hold back an urge to squee at his voice. All gentle, and flowy, and beautiful—

"Sure," she said shortly, letting her hand fall from the door abruptly.

_NO!_ she cried in her head, trying to stop her_self_ from ruining her chances.

He gave her another distressingly sweet smile, and she melted inside. On the outside, her face twitched and set into a stony mask. "Just checking," he told her easily, "that the new student was okay," and with another sweet smile he breezed past her and began the impressive trek down the avenue.

She was torn between being overjoyed that he knew who she was, or irritated that she was messing up again. He looked like a prince! And he knew her—well, he knew she was new—did he know her name? He was so _sweet_.

With another sigh, this time decidedly lighter, she slid through the closing door, and marched over to the receptionist, who looked up and smiled kindly at her. She couldn't help comparing her smile to the prince's—was that what she was calling him now? It fit him.

"What can I do for you, dear?" the woman asked, shuffling papers on the chaotic desk space.

Amu resigned herself to boarding school with those words, and raised her head proudly to reply, "Amu Hinamori."

******

The door clicked gently shut behind her, and she jumped at the noise, looking back. It was a really nice place, she thought grudgingly. She should have trusted her parents to that at least; if they were going to ship her off to boarding school, it was going to be a good one.

Apparently, it encompassed everyone from the age of 5 to 18, and it was a really academic school as well as being… luxurious, she summarised, peering down the hall and finding a bedroom with a four poster bed. She explored, gaining a growing sense of excitement discovering nooks and crannies. The whole school couldn't be like this, could it?

There were two bedrooms, the second one bigger than her living room back home was, the first one slightly smaller. The second was obviously already occupied—by someone who wasn't quite messy, or really tidy, but somewhere in between, with a few books littered over the floor, a clock in the shape of a cat on the left bedside table, and the wardrobe hanging open. She looked at it, curious, and blinked at what looked suspiciously like a pair of… a pair of boys' boxers.

No. She had to be wrong. They wouldn't room her with a boy. It just didn't happen.

She took a tentative step into the room, looking around for anyone else carefully, and crept across the floor like she was treading on eggshells. The whole dorm area was quiet, but you never knew… Plus, if it _was_ a boy's room, if she was in a boy's room by herself… ah, mama would be surprised, wouldn't she?

She opened the wardrobe a little further, and her eyes widened. They _were_ boy's clothes—and—oh, oh man… She slammed the door shut, blushing, and turned to leave the room. This had to be a mistake—she couldn't room with a boy, mama wouldn't let her—

A key turned in a lock, and she froze, halfway to the door of the room. It clicked open; someone overshot it, so the door banged against the hall wall. Someone—a _boy_—murmured something irritably, and she heard feet on the carpet moving forwards—then they stopped, murmuring unintelligible things—had they found her suitcase?

They got closer, and Amu abandoned all rational thought to panic, attempting to hide. She stuffed herself quietly into the wardrobe, trying desperately not to make a noise, or wonder what she was sitting on.

He wandered through the door and she guessed that he'd sat down on the bed now, by the creaking—then it stopped, and the floorboards moaned a little—he was standing right in front of the wardrobe, and she was sure he could hear her heart, beating as furiously as it was…

Someone pulled the doors open, and she looked up, panicking, into a coolly bemused face.

"What," her new roommate asked carefully, "are you doing in my wardrobe?"

Amu searched for an excuse and couldn't find one, blushing fiercely. "…No reason," she managed vaguely. He gave her an odd look, shoving a handful of dark hair out of his face. "I'm your new roommate," she snapped, mainly to fill the awkward silence.

He gave her another _look_, making her more uncomfortable, and leaned back casually onto one foot, still holding onto the door. His free hand swung around randomly in mid air, to some rhythm she couldn't hear, and he gave the room a quick look around before returning to her.

"Right. So what are you doing in my wardrobe?" he repeated, sounding a little amused, a small smile playing mockingly over his lips. It was nothing like the Prince's, or even the receptionist's. He was making fun of her! If she looked at him, it was there, lurking in his dark blue eyes, mocking her.

"No reason," she muttered, clambering out of the wardrobe, trying to maintain her dignity even at this stage and stalking out into the hallway.

He followed her, hovering at her footsteps, annoyingly taller than her—how tall was he? "So," he began, almost pleasantly, "you must be Amu Hinamori then."

She didn't bother to turn around. "How do you know my name?"

He laughed, a low, rich sound that had the hair on her scalp standing on end. "Everyone knows who you are." When she didn't deign to reply, he carried on. "But why are you my roommate?"

"I don't know," she replied shortly. "I'm gonna go ask."

She turned to him in time to see him shrug, hands carelessly jammed in the pockets of his extraordinarily tight trousers, that mischievous smile still there. He moved lightly on his feet, stopping just as she wheeled around. Something about him was catlike, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"I don't mind," he said teasingly, leaning in and down until he was uncomfortably close. She leaned out again, frowning, and he just leaned in further, grinning irrepressibly. One of his hands reached around, tightening around her waist and drawing her in. She squeaked, trying to pry his hands off, but they remained firmly there. "I think," he began, lowering his head and taking a deep sniff of her hair, "that this would be… interesting."

She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"He- hey! This is—let go!"

"Don't wanna," he muttered into her hair, drawing her closer. "You smell nice."

"Hey! I mean it!"

His tone went reproachful instantly—but still playful, still _teasing_—and he said, "Fine," and released her. She stumbled away, trying to hide her pink face, and glared at him.

"I'm going to sort this out," she snapped. "I can't room with you."

He pouted—she felt a smile tug ridiculously at her lips, and stuffed it down to where she couldn't find. Instead, she frowned balefully at him, and crossed her arms defensively. "Why not?" he asked easily, leaning against the wall casually.

She spluttered, dismayed. "Because—because you're a _boy_!"

He grinned, sliding along the wall in a slinky way that had her uncomfortably aware of her own body. "So—oh?" he asked, waving his head smoothly too close to her again. She shoved at him half heartedly, and when he slunk even closer, she squeaked and ran past him, shaking her head desperately.

She yanked at the door, forgetting how to turn it for a moment—just pulling manically. The hand sneaked around her waist again, and she pulled the door open, ducking underneath the arm to run out into the corridor and down the stairs. Part way, she turned back and looked, not having heard the door shut yet.

He was just standing, silhouetted in the door, leaning lazily against the doorframe with his hands jammed in his pockets.

She was sure he was smirking.

******

Amu slammed her hands down onto the desk, breathing hard, sure she looked absolutely mad. "You—you've made a mistake," she panted.

The woman behind the desk looked suitably surprised, her fingers pausing mid-type. She pulled her glasses down her nose nervously and began to wipe them on her jumper, going through the rhythmic motions of someone outside of their comfort zone. "Are you sure, dear?" she asked nicely, sliding her glasses smoothly back onto her nose. "Where have we made a mistake?"

"You've—you've roomed me with—a boy," she forced out, trying to stop herself from blushing. She was acting ridiculously.

Amu straightened up consciously, retreating back into her shell, and looked at the woman coolly. Her hands seemed to slide into the pockets of her skirt automatically, nestling there comfortably where no-one could see them sweat. Some of part of her was meanly glad to see the woman recoil at her quick transformation. Was that her character?

The receptionist shook her head, smiling weakly. "No, I'm afraid we can't have possibly roomed you with a boy—this is a very select school, Miss Hinamori, we don't just make mistakes like that—"

She trailed off slowly, grinding to a halt looking at somebody who was lurking just behind her, looking up to somebody taller than Amu. A familiar hand snaked around her waist and pulled her back gently to a warm chest, and somebody's bony chin settled on top of her head and sniffed deeply into her hair.

"Great," Amu muttered under her breath, trying to cross her arms over the hand lynched around her torso.

"I—I—Ikuto!" the receptionist stuttered, desperately attempting to settle a charming smile into place onto her face.

Amu felt him smile into her hair, and then he stepped away a little, still holding onto her firmly. _This had to be assault or something_, she thought darkly. "There has been a mistake made," he said smoothly, ruffling her hair affectionately with his free hand. She scowled up at him, trying to throw it off. "But I don't think it's serious," he added, smiling earnestly.

She admitted grudgingly to herself that he was kinda cute.

_But nowhere near the Prince_, she added righteously in her head, _nothing like him_.

Tsukiyomi—if that was his name—swung back and forth in midair and smiled attractively at the receptionist. "Make an exception to the rules, this time," he suggested, squeezing Amu's waist. "See, see, we're already getting attached."

"Aren't," Amu muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. He grinned at her for a second, and then went back to smiling at the receptionist.

The door opened, loud enough in the awkward silence that had donned for Amu to jump nervously, and whirl around. _The Prince_, she thought excitedly, almost jumping up. _Ah, but he probably doesn't like me after earlier_, she thought painfully, biting her lip.

The boy looked from her to the door, frowning, and retrieved his arm to cross them over his own chest. The new entrant walked over, stopped, joining the club of frowners, and then carried on to stand by them, looking around with slight bafflement at what must have looked rather odd.

"Ikuto Tsukiyomi," he acknowledged gruffly. Amu blinked at the name. She'd heard it before somewhere.

"Hey, little Tadase," he replied, bowing mockingly. "Not on parade?"

She could hear the humour in his voice, but the Prince—Tadase, Tadase—seemed to take it as an insult with barely restrained anger. Poor Prince. It just made her like him more. With a deep sigh, Tadase released his curled fists and turned to Amu, putting on an obviously strained smile. His eyes kept flicking towards Ikuto.

"How are you, Hinamori?" he asked, and she almost melted at the sound of his voice. _Shut up, shut up! _she told herself. _Don't act stupid! _

"Fine," she said coolly, shrugging. _Arrrrgh. Amuu, you're so stupid!_ She shrugged again, ignoring her ongoing inner monologue. "I'm just sorting something out," she added, with an attempt at a nice smile.

She was sure he didn't mean to recoil, and neither did the receptionist—and she was _definitely sure that Ikuto hadn't laughed_—but he recovered quickly, and looked between the two of them. "Oh?" he asked, tilting his head to one side adorably. "What are you sorting out?"

Ikuto pulled her close again, ignoring her muffled protests, and flashed a quick grin at Tadase. "_Amu_," he said, putting emphasis on her first name, "just wanted to check… that she was rooming with me."

Tadase spluttered, giving the woman at the desk an incredulous look. "Miss—is that—you can't let a girl room with Ikuto Tsukiyomi," he said heavily, getting himself together.

"Says who?" Ikuto inquired airily, a mischievous smile playing about his lips but not quite making it.

"I—every—you can't," Tadase snapped, flexing his fingers, then turning to Amu, with a considerable effort at politeness. "Hinamori, do you want to room with Tsukiyomi?"

"Eh… not really," she admitted, looking at the floor. "I was on my way to ask for a change…"

He smiled brightly at her—_ahh, so dazzling_, she thought happily—and turned back to the receptionist, who was looking distinctly flustered. "So, it's settled," he told her.

Ikuto made an odd disappointed clucking noise in the back of his throat, and settled his arms around Amu's head. "Hey…," she hissed up at him, "leggo!"

"Aww, Amu, don't be so cold," he murmured, pouting. When he looked up, he was grinning in a way that made her nervous. It seemed to make the receptionist even more nervous—_if that was possible by this point_, she thought dryly—and to just infuriate Tadase. "Since," he began carefully, "my… _father_"—what did he have against his father, Amu wondered, hearing the distaste in his voice—"likes to see me happy… Ah, I don't know," he finished, shrugging expressively and elbowing Amu quite painfully in the head.

The suggestion hung in the air. Amu remembered the name now. Director Hoshina, some really influential businessman, had two children, one who was a famous singer—Utau, Ami loved her—and the other, who was a famous… troublemaker, who never took his father's name. She remembered wondering why. She glanced up at Ikuto. Why wouldn't he take the name Hoshina? Why wouldn't he use his father's name?

Tadase was glaring at Ikuto—if looks could kill—but relaxed slowly, unstiffening. He turned to Amu apologetically. "Sorry, Hinamori—do you mind rooming for a while—with Tsukiyomi?"

Her heart went pathetically out to him, and she had to restrain herself from blurting _YES_ happily. "Sure," she said, making another attempt at a smile. She guessed it came out more naturally that time, since nobody screamed or recoiled.

Tadase gave Ikuto an unfriendly look, but nodded his head civilly. In response, Ikuto grinned, tipping an imaginary hat and latching onto Amu's wrist to tow her away. She followed him grumpily, twisting around one last time, picking up the courage to wave to Tadase shyly.

He waved back, smiling, and she melted again.

And she thought she'd had problems before.


	2. Unfortunately, stuck with new room mate

**Just to let y'all know, the age of consent/age limit where I live is _16_, and I'll be going with that for the story. Assume Amu is around 13 or 14, and Ikuto is the same age as he is in the manga (which I am following more than the anime. Please don't confuse me by mentioning the anime Dx -Isn't Ikuto's seiyuu's voice hot stuff though? I'd tap that.) **

First day, after lunch, and the silence in the room was terribly, terribly awkward.

Peeking over her book, she looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. He didn't actually seem to be doing anything. Just staring absent mindedly into space—or then at _her_, when she glanced up. How did he _know_?

She looked back down at her book hurriedly, and then glanced painfully at the clock. Five minutes until she had to start going to lessons.

She looked back around the room.

Well… there was no harm getting there early on her first day, was there?

She coughed, decided, and slung the book into her schoolbag, rifling through it one more time to check that she had everything. When she was satisfied, she stood back up, overly aware of eyes trained on her back. Amu cleared her throat awkwardly, looking straight ahead, and shuffled her feet a little.

"See you…," she muttered, heaving the bag higher on her arm, and turning to leave.

His head shot up out of the corner of her eye. She groaned inwardly.

In a moment, he was on his feet, grinning in that unnerving way. Groping hands reached cheerfully for her, and she eluded them, yelping a little. Backed against the wall in a matter of seconds, she scowled, and didn't push him away when his arms settled around her head again and pulled her against his chest.

She was (pretty) sure he was (mainly) harmless, and something about his warm chest and the soft little bits of hair that fell on her face—they tickled—was kind of nice. Not like the Prince. If the Prince hugged her, she'd probably implode. But there was something about physical contact with Ikuto that made it seem not weird at all, but habit, routine, kind of… necessary.

But after about thirty seconds, she was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to go. She pushed at him.

"So cold, Amu," he murmured reproachfully, smushing her head against his chest. She made some muffled noise of protest, shoving at his shoulders, and with an affected sigh, he let her go.

She backed away, spluttering nervously, spewing out odd, indignant noises. He simply grinned at her, with that cute smirk that had made Tadase so angry. "I'm—I'm going to class," she snapped, crossing her arms, and practically running out of the door; just remembering to reach for her key before she left.

******

Amu hovered outside the classroom, unsure if she should go in or not. Nobody seemed to be there—should she try it? What if she took somebody's seat?

_Ahh_, she thought, clutching at her head, looking around nervously. What if nobody came? What did she do then?

The bell rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She jumped and screamed and flailed, and settled back against the wall, breathing hard. Somebody laid a hand on her shoulder, and she screamed again, flailing away, stumbling over her own feet and landing on the ground hard.

"Oh my."

The girl looked faintly amused, staring down at her with a steady, level gaze. She tilted her head onto one side questioningly, and not receiving any answer to the unspoken question, broke out into a sweet smile. Amu looked down, suddenly shy. _She's so pretty,_ she moaned. _Why's she talking to me?_

"Nadeshiko Fujisaki," she said calmly, holding out a hand. Amu took it gratefully, and was pulled bodily to her feet with impressive strength.

"Thanks," she mumbled shyly, "and I'm—"

"Amu Hinamori," Nadeshiko finished for her, with a secretive smile. "I know." For a moment, her smile became a little different as something Amu didn't know ran through her head, and then she tilted her head back and took Amu's hands again. "Aren't you cute, Hinamori?"

Amu blinked, not sure if she was hearing what she was hearing. Her automatic brain kicked in, and she looked away, shrugging. "Yeah, sure."

She was instantly horrified, and resisted the urge to sink down and bash her head against the nearest wall—Nadeshiko simply laughed, tugging on her hands. "How cool, Hinamori," she said, smiling mischievously, teasingly. "Will you sit next to me?"

"Um, yes," Amu replied, getting increasingly bewildered. Who was Nadeshiko Fujisaki? Why was she going out of her way to talk to her? "Who are you?" she blurted out, before she could help herself, and she almost bent over, embarrassed. But she kept Nadeshiko's gaze straight on, feeling herself retreating to some far away place and nestling there to stay there where it was safe.

Nadeshiko laughed again, low and musical, and pulled Amu into the classroom, installing her in a chair, with a finger daintily to her lips the whole time. "I told you," she said playfully, "I am Nadeshiko Fujisaki. And this class's representative—I need to make sure you settle in, Hinamori."

Amu slung her bag onto the table roughly, trying to hide her embarrassment. Usually, people didn't pay much attention to her—or, at least, they certainly didn't have conversations with her. Normally, they just muttered from some day distance off carefully about her, and stopped when she drew near… It didn't help that her mother and father were minor celebrities in their own right—her mum with her magazine, and her father with his photography; Ami was his favourite subject.

Amu smiled at the thought of Ami, lost in her own thoughts now.

Ami was so cute. Looking after her was hard, but it was kinda worth it at the end of the day to see her grin up—and her first words had been "big sis". Not mum, or dad. But Amu. _Worth it_, she thought.

The sound of Nadeshiko chuckling under her breath brought her back down to Earth with a bump. "Oh!" she cried, looking around. A couple of people had filed in quietly while she was thinking—one girl lounged close to Nadeshiko, staring at Amu curiously and unabashedly. While she was staring, she hopped carelessly onto a nearby desk, and perched there happily.

"Hey, Shiko, Shiko," she whispered excitedly, wriggling on the desk, "is that Hinamori? Amu Hinamori."

Nadeshiko covered her mouth politely, laughing a little. "Yes, that is Amu Hinamori." She turned to Amu, and gestured to the girl. "Miss Hinamori," she said, as the girl fiddled happily with one of her pigtails, "may I introduce Yaya Yuiki?"

Yaya jumped bodily off the table, and stuck out a hand cheerfully, the other still looping her hair round and round the index finger. She made an odd half bob curtsy, swaying all over the place, and Amu took her hand. It was shaken very enthusiastically, for a little too long, and then Yaya let go of her hand, humming under her breath.

The general impression was that a cheery tornado had swept past her. Yaya looked so full of energy that it was infectious. Amu managed a hesitant half smile, and was rewarded with a beaming, toothy grin.

"Time for lessons, Yaya," Nadeshiko spoke up, with a pointed glance at the clock. Yaya groaned, fiddling with the front of her skirt, pouting at Fujisaki.

"Hey, hey, can't I stay for a while?" she pleaded. "I'll be goood, 'Shiko, I will—"

Nadeshiko cut her off with a rueful shake of her head. "I'm afraid not, Yaya, now go to your lessons before the second bell—"

"Fujisaki? Hinamori?"

Amu suddenly became awake and enthusiastic, looking towards the door quickly. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Nadeshiko smile knowingly, and felt a small prick of foreboding. But then the Prince was upon them, and she was trying to sum up a smile to dazzle him with.

He winced a little upon seeing it, but she was glad to note that otherwise, no damage seemed to be done.

Tadase turned to Yaya, smiling, and Amu wiped at her eyes hurriedly, overcome. "Miss Yuiki," he greeted her, giving her a warm smile. Yaya responded by giving him an enthusiastic pat on the shoulder, which he flinched mildly from. "Ah, Hinamori!" he said brightly. "So you've met everyone except Kukai now, then?"

Amu wondered who Kukai was.

She nodded anyway, just to see Tadase smile again, and he did—making her feel all warm inside, ahh… "Good," he said, nodding automatically; then turning to Yuiki and gesturing to the door with a faintly regretful expression. "Time for us to go, Yuiki," he began, quickly cut off by her cry of protest. He held up his hands, laughing, and patted her casually on the shoulder. "Do I have to report the representative? Come on, Yuiki."

With a childish, adorable pout, Yaya waved goodbye to Nadeshiko and Amu, and danced off, half hopping, half skipping behind Tadase. Tadase gave them a friendly wave too, and hurried off behind Yaya, shutting the door quietly after him.

"She has a lot of energy, doesn't she?" Nadeshiko inquired, setting out her things.

Amu was still staring at the door, somewhat shell shocked.

She blinked.

"Yeah…," she replied, as the teacher walked in the door, apologising for being late, and instantly turning to her.

"Ah! You must be Hinamori! Come and introduce yourself to the class… We all knew you were coming, but still, just so everyone knows you…"

Reluctantly, stiffly, Amu got to her feet, the wistful expression she'd been wearing during the exchange between Nadeshiko, Yaya and Tadase disappearing, to be replaced with the cool, distant expression she resorted to when she was stressed. A feeling of dull, baseless dread settled in her stomach; she forced herself to walk to the front, and turn to face her classmates, to meet their eyes. When she began to speak, it was short and clipped. Several classmates turned to each other and compared what they heard about her before, and how this stood with the rumours.

Nadeshiko watched with interest, but was distracted part way through in surprise by a shadow in the open doorway. She spotted a tall, lanky figure with dark hair, and wondered what Amu Hinamori had to do with Ikuto Tsukiyomi, and why he was watching the proceedings with such obvious curiosity.

******

The door opened and slammed.

Amu flinched in her seat. She turned to the door, half expecting to see an angry Ikuto storm through it—though he didn't seem the _type_ to get angry easily, somehow—but was instead faced with a group of people.

"Tadase?" she asked, smoothing down her skirt self-consciously.

He nodded to her, looking constrained, and Ikuto poked his head over Tadase's—clearly taller, almost ridiculously so. "Yo, Amu," he said brightly. "Don't I get a hug?"

She sneered at him automatically, turning to Tadase. Ahh, poor Prince… He looked so stressed. He only looked that way when Ikuto was around, it was weird—maybe Ikuto often threw his weight around with his influential father, and was a bully? They must have some kind of nasty history, for the antagonism Tadase held towards Ikuto.

Yaya peeped out from underneath the arm that Tadase had resting on the opposite wall, and gave Amu a cheerful wave. "Hey, hey, Amu-chi, how're you?"

Amu shrugged to her, unsure what was going on, and turned to the boy beside Tadase, who was almost as tall as Ikuto. He was tan, much darker skinned than the rest of the group, who were for the most part rather pale, and his teeth flashed very white, contrasting with his brown hair. He was shifting about from foot to foot every so often—Amu supposed that like Yaya, he was full of energy all the time. _He_, she thought, _must be Kukai_.

"Ah, Hinamori," Tadase suddenly spoke up; pointing to the boy she'd just been staring at, who jostled among the group for a moment, grinning heartily, "this is Kukai Soma. Soma, this is Hinamori. Please get along."

Kukai gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. "Hey, Hinamori! Having fun?" He gave a pointed look at Ikuto and Tadase, who both looked as though they were about as far away from fun as it could get. Tadase, because of the proximity of Ikuto, and Ikuto probably because nobody was letting him grope anyone else. Amu wondered for the first time how old he was. Was it _legal_ to stay in the same room as him? She was under the age limit, but he looked well over it. How old was _anyone_ in the room? She knew nothing about any of them, except for their names.

"Miss Hinamori," Tadase began, snapping her out of her reverie—she really needed to stop dozing off when people were talking to her (she was doing it right now…)—"we have some… issues to sort out if you two are going to room together—there's, eh, some things we need to sort out, since Tsukiyomi won't have anything else"—a dark look towards Ikuto, who grinned in reply—"and we need you to sign some things… Is that okay?"

Amu nodded, looking between the two of them.

"Soma came along to meet you, and, eh, Fujisaki and Yuiki refused to stay behind. Is that okay, Hinamori?"

Amu nodded again, taking the piece of paper offered her, and scanning over it. It was some kind of disclaimer thing, "we are not responsible if you get hurt" type of sheet of paper. When she'd finished reading it, she looked back up. "Um, do I tell my parents?" she asked, shuffling the paper in her lap.

Tadase looked uncomfortable. "Well… if they ask," he said. "But, is it okay if you don't tell them?"

Amu thought of her dad's reaction if she brought a boy home—if she'd suggested even taking him upstairs, her father would have had a fit. She shuddered at the thought, and nodded heartily. She was okay with not telling her parents about this. They'd have kittens. They'd have _kittens_, and since it didn't look like Ikuto was going to let go of it… _It would be_ fine, she told herself. _It would all be_ fine.

She scribbled a brand new, made up signature, and then printed her name with care. Was it binding? She supposed she didn't really care. So long as the Prince stopped looking so unhappy, it would be fine. Anyway, Ikuto wasn't exactly the most demanding roommate in the world—not that she really had any experience with roommates…

Tadase took back the paper gently, scanned down it and scribbled his own name on the back in a section she hadn't noticed. He handed it to Ikuto with the air of someone handling something highly unpleasant, and then gave the pen to Ikuto gracefully, unable to stop being polite even to someone he highly disliked. Amu liked that about him. He was so cute, so polite.

Ikuto signed it carelessly and shoved the paper and pen back to Tadase, who took them and stored both in the trousers of his school uniform. Tadase smiled at her, managing an expression that looked slightly forced, but for the most part, genuine, and gestured to the others to come, turning to leave.

"See you tomorrow, Hinamori," he said, with forced bravado. "Remember, if you have any problems, you can come to any of us."

She nodded overeagerly—quickly putting herself in check after that—Ikuto did something that looked suspiciously like a snicker into his shoulder; she glared at him as they left, Nadeshiko smiling vaguely to herself. Yaya gave her an enthusiastic wave, and Kukai laughed to himself, at a joke that nobody else could hear.

The door closed, leaving her alone with Ikuto again.


	3. Developments with new room mate

So, uh… I don't really have an excuse for this. If anyone remembers who I am, I wrote some more fics, got distracted by shiny oneshots, and ran away cackling to ignore this for 9 months. I know ;-; I suck. But look, look, I'm making up for it with some plot! There's actual plot, not just random fluff. Woo. (Still not much longer, but, uh, I can work on that.)

* * *

"So," he announced, smirking, "roomie." He shuffled across the room until he was sitting on the arm of her chair, his own arm resting on the back just above her head. "I think we should celebrate, right?"

"No," Amu grumbled, without any real conviction.

He patted the top of her head and slid carelessly off the arm onto the floor, looking up at her. She glared at him. "No," she said again, more strongly. His eyes were pleading, going round, and round, and big and blue—she looked away, disgruntled.

"Nooo, I don't reaaaally want to, so," she mumbled incoherently as he stared at her beseechingly. She was cracking. He looked like some stray kitten, just begging to be fed or something. Maybe a puppy. Puppies were more affectionate, weren't they?

_Amu_, something in her said.

_Yes?_

_ Shut up. _

_ Right._

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Fine—bu—agh!"

He'd simply got straight to his feet, absolutely sure that she would crack sooner or later, the triumphant smirk on his face like some fat slug that she wanted to stomp—_shut up_—_right, right, no slugs, never mind_—

He was towing her towards the fridge already, into the room she hadn't seen earlier—never got past the bedrooms, she thought glumly—and released her, choosing to open the fridge and rifle thoughtfully through. As she made to return to the living room, he pointed absent mindedly at the table to the left of him. With a long suffering sigh, just to let him know that this was putting her _extremely _out of her way, she sat down, resting her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand. He was producing things from the fridge with the air of an expert.

The silence was getting a little awkward. "Soo…," she began, trying to sound aloof, "you can cook? Isn't there a cafeteria for this?"

"Their food is terrible. It's nasty. Aren't you happy I'm cooking for you?" he asked, turning around with the pout already firmly in place. She waved her hands at him, aloof exterior cracking like—like something cracking really fast.

"I guess, I guess, so, um… thanks?" she muttered grudgingly, crossing her arms.

His face transformed instantly from the pout to a little laugh-snort thing, and he leaned against the counter, snickering at her. "What?" she demanded, knowing she was blushing. "What? I didn't _do_ anything—why are you laughing? Heyyy, hey, Ikuto!" She got to her feet, put out at his sudden fit of the _giggles_, and smacked him on the head.

He didn't stop. If anything, he laughed more. "Ikuto! What's so _funny_?" He patted her on the head hopelessly, shaking his own head, one hand to his forehead.

And then without warning he had gathered her up in a hug as soon as she was close enough. Amu's face could have set stone. "_Oh_," she said darkly under her breath.

"Ah, you're so cute, Amu," he said, somewhere further up. She could feel the words rumble through his body, and shivered before she could stop herself. She knew she was blushing again. No-one had ever called her cute before, except her mum and dad and Ami, and they didn't count. They were family. They were _required_ to think she was cute. He patted her head again, something she was coming to get a complex about, and muttered, "Cute" again.

When he let her go, her face was bright pink. She tried to hide it under her arm, but he easily peeled it back, and laughed once, short. "Aww, Amu, do you like being called cute? And since we lost time with cooking, will you help me? I'll call you cute again."

Her heart beating shamefully fast, she pushed him away, scowling as she did. But if he did it all for her—that'd be a favour she'd owe him—he'd probably hold it over her head forever. Plus, it was always useful to know how to cook. Her mama had tried to teach her at home, but then she'd had to look after Ami, and Amu had to be guided exactly or she was likely to damage the kitchen. Baking she could do. Baking was fun. But cooking remained beyond her.

"Fine," she announced, making a show of reluctance.

An apron landed on her head. Picking it up, she regarded with some horror, and some longing, a frilly pink apron. She turned to Ikuto. "Why… why do you have this in your kitchen?"

He shrugged, grinning. "I thought it might come in handy one day."

She decided not to ask any more, simply putting it on. Was there a mirror in here? Did she look cute? Was it too much? Her mama was always dressing her up in punk lolita style. Just once, she'd like to wear something like sweet lolita—like Ami. Ami was so cute; she always got the sweet lolita. Amu twisted around, trying to see all of it to be called back to earth by Ikuto's laugh-snort again.

He moved past her, ruffling her hair, to the fridge again. "You look even cuter now, Amu. Isn't it nice I get you to help me, right?"

She scowled, refusing to reply, instead asking, "What are we making?"

He shrugged. "I figured just something simple. Potatoes and fish. Is that okay?"

Amu wrinkled her nose. "Potatoes and fish?"

"_Mashed_ potatoes and fish. It's good." He winked. "_Everything_ is good when I make it."

"Sure," Amu muttered, not assured of the genius of potatoes and fish yet. "No other vegetables?"

Ikuto waved a hand idly, pulling on an apron decidedly less frilly than Amu's. "Vegetables? Potatoes. Mashed potatoes. It's good for you." He pointed to a cabinet at the side. "Get a saucepan from there. Any one."

Amu crouched down and shuffled over to the cabinet, rifling through it for a saucepan. They were right at the back, and with a series of worrying clanging noises, she dragged one out, spilling half the contents of the cabinet in the process. Ikuto looked down at her from where he was peeling potatoes, and snickered loudly. "Just put them back in," he said. "Any order."

She shoved the stuff back in, disgruntled at the loud clashes, and dumped the saucepan on the side.

"Now, are you gonna help me peel the potatoes?" he asked, grinning, motioning to the counter, moving aside to make a space. As soon as she'd moved in there, he was behind her, his arm along her arm.

"Um—Ikuto—"

"Didn't you say you were going to help me?" he asked glumly in her ear, sending shivers down her spine when his breath brushed across her face.

"Yes—well—ahh—"

"Didn't you want to cook? Should I not teach you now?"

Already his hand was guiding her hand. Disgruntled, she gave in, but only halfway. "Okay, okay, but don't stand so _close_—just a little bit—Ikuto~"

She felt him shrug. "Okay, Amu. Truce. Now, hold the potato in _this_ hand"—his fingers closing over hers, long and warm, steering her towards a potato. She fumbled for it clumsily, more hindered by his "help", really, and enclosed it in her hand—"and then the peeler in _this_ hand, this is your writing hand, right?" She nodded, being right handed. "Now, drag the peeler down—mind your fingers!"

A long line of potato skin dangled from the peeler. She smiled, surprised at how easy it was, not even too put out at the warm chin resting on the top of her head. He was so _tall_. "Good job, Amu," he said happily, and kissed the top of her head. She bit her lip, feeling the now familiar heat through her cheeks, and willed it to fade quickly. "Now, can I leave you to the rest of them?"

"Yes!" she said, a little too quickly.

He moved away, and she just knew he was laughing behind her. He was peeling the potatoes too, getting through three in the time that it took her to struggle with one, rinsing them after he'd peeled them and cutting them in half. She tried to do the same and dropped the potato in the sink just as soon as she'd washed it. Then she cut herself with the knife, and her finger began bleeding.

Ignoring it resolutely, she started on the next potato, to find Ikuto looking at her thoughtfully. "What?" she snapped, trying to ignore the throbbing in her finger.

"Amu, you're bleeding all over the food," he pointed out reasonably. "And cuts like that hurt."

She scowled at him. "And?"

He sighed, smiling irresistibly smoothly at her. "Amu, just ask for help. I'm not going to say no to such a cute girl, now, am I?" She muttered dark things underneath her breath, and cradled her finger as he looked through the cupboards for a plaster. "Wash it quickly under the water," he called to her, rifling through a green box full of very surgical looking things. Was that a normal first aid kit? "Then dry it off," he called again, seeing her standing there awkwardly with her finger dripping. "I don't care if blood gets on the towel."

She did so as carefully as possible, still trying not to damage or ruin anything. A little smear of blood was still on the towel, and she sighed. Blood was impossible to get out of fabric.

"Hold out your hand," Ikuto told her, brows furrowed slightly. He had an oversized dark blue plaster in between his fingers, and opened it carefully, taking her finger and outstretching it. He was so… intense, she thought. Everything he did, even while he was teasing, he did with a fierce intensity. Not for the first time, she wondered who he really was.

The plaster was settled around her finger before she had realised, and he gave her back her hand with a boyish smile, going back to their dinner. She put her hands to her cheeks, blushing, and followed him. It was just because she wasn't used to boys being interested in her, that was all it was, surely…

* * *

Dinner was good, she had to admit, even though she'd barely helped. (That was probably why.) Ikuto was an okay cook. Not excellent, but the food was filling and at least tasty. He put away an astonishing amount of food, which she put down to him being a boy. It just seemed to vanish from the dish in between the two of them. Every time she got some more mash onto her plate, the amount there seemed to have halved.

When dinner finished, she was comfortably sleepy, but volunteered to do the dishes all the same, out of a small guilt that Ikuto had done much more than her for their dinner. She washed up quickly and concisely, acutely aware of Ikuto's fully awake gaze on her.

"I'm going to bed," she announced, when she'd washed up everything and put it on the drying rack. "Can you put the stuff away?"

He shrugged, which she took to be a yes, and leaned back in his chair, rocking forwards and backwards. "Amu~," he began, in that plaintive teasing tone that meant nothing good could come of it. She turned to face him suspiciously.

"What?"

"I'm feeling lonely. Can I sleep with you tonight?"

His eyes were big and pleading, and she had to shake her head for a moment, not sure she'd heard right. "Huh?" she said stupidly, shaking her head again just to make sure. "You—what?" It sank in a little more. "No! What? No!"

"But Amu—" he began, leaning back perilously far on his chair over to her, "I'll be lonely otherwise. Do you want me to be lonely, Amu? What if something bad happens to me?"

She scowled at him, her usual tactic. As usual, it made no impact on him at all. Why did she bother? (_Because he was harmless, and kinda cute, and she did like him as a person, even with his complete lack of personal space awareness, because he was fun to be around._) She meant, why did she bother? He didn't listen. (_Even though that expression on his face was adorable-_)

Older boy, she reminded herself. Older. Legal older. She was illegal. This was not a good road to go down, even though so far he just seemed to like being in her personal space—he hadn't actually tried to feel her up or anything—_bad road, bad road, Amu_!

"No!" she repeated, aware that he was still looking at her, waiting for her internal monologue to finish.

Something flashed in his eyes for a second that she nearly missed—and all the same, she's not entirely sure what it was—frustration? Irritation? Worry? "C'mon Amu," he wheedled, and she was sure she had no need to worry about it if he could still put that face on and beg like that. No shame.

"Ikuto," she said, trying to install some sense into his brain, "no. For one, it's kind of illegal. Two—no!"

He waved his hand. "Nah, not _that_," he said dismissively. "I just see, if I have company, and I'm feeling lonely, why not just stay together? Isn't it nice to have someone next to you? Doesn't it feel safer? Aw, come on, Amu. Say yes."

She gave up, and just walked out of the room. He'd get over it, he was mature enough to—despite his appearance and the way he acted, she was sure some part of him must be. They'd be back to normal by the next morning.

* * *

At some point during the night, she woke up, unsure what had awoken her. Some noise? She was always waking up at small things back home, it was probably the same here.

Then she heard the floorboards creak somewhere, and tried to figure out where it was. Probably the hall, because only the hall and the kitchen had floorboards that made noise like that, and she wasn't sure she would even be able to hear anything from the kitchen from her room. Maybe it was just Ikuto, getting something, a snack or a drink of water.

No. Ikuto moved too quietly for that, all the time. He was like a cat, padding about too gently to be heard.

Then she heard Ikuto's voice, and went cold all over. "Shhh!" he was saying, sounding irritated for the first time—although, she reminded herself glumly, sitting up, frozen in her bed, that she hadn't known him for that long, and the Prince—Tadase—hadn't trusted him… But she was usually a good judge of people! And he'd seemed so nice!

"Relax, Ikuto," another voice said, a full grown man's voice. "We just checked, remember? She's dead to the world." There was a groaning noise, and Amu strained to hear over it. "Cute girl, though. Lucky you."

Ikuto remained silent for a moment, and then when he spoke, his voice was cold. "I don't see why we had to meet here."

There was a rustling of fabric, and a sigh. "Nobody told me you had a room mate now. I always assumed if you got one, you'd just get rid of them. But, ah, I can understand with this one. What's her name?"

After another short pause, Ikuto said, "Hinamori."

"Hinamori…?"

"Amu. Amu Hinamori," he growled, as if holding himself back. "What are you here for?"

"Eh, eh, so testy, Ikuto. Calm down. You might wake your pretty roomie. That would be bad, wouldn't it?"

"Get to the point."

"You haven't been pulling your weight. The Director isn't happy. We're not any closer to the Boss' objective, and you're just running around school chasing girls. It's not practical, Ikuto. You can't get involved with others. Do you want to hurt her?"

"Shut up."

"I see I've made my point. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, and remember—if you don't help us, Ikuto, we can always get to little Hinamori."

The floorboards began creaking again, and panicking, Amu tried to make it look like she was asleep again without letting them know she had ever been awake. The bedcovers rustled a little, and to her ears it was like an explosion of sound. She hoped so badly that neither of them had excellent hearing, or she was really in trouble…

The door creaked open gently, and someone looked in. Amu's entire body went tense. _Relax, relax,_ she told herself, feeling more than a little afraid now that this person was nearly in her room—someone who had power over Ikuto—someone who had, effectively threatened her to him, even though she was pretty sure she didn't mean that much to Ikuto, or ever would. The fact still remained that he had threatened her…

The door remained open for the longest time, and she felt herself getting tenser and tenser. If she needed to, she could run for it… She was in her pyjamas, but they were practical, and she could surely run away in them, it just depended on her opponent…

"Move on," Ikuto hissed from the doorway, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "You'll wake her up!"

"Yeah, yeah, Ikuto. You're no fun any more, you know that?"

But he closed the door, smoothly and quietly, and seconds later she heard their front door go, and then a sigh, and a thump like someone had fallen over or against something. "God…" she heard Ikuto say, and then she pulled the covers over her head and refused to listen until morning.

* * *

When she woke up, everything seemed bizarrely normal. She could smell some food—and caught herself hoping Ikuto had made her breakfast again, even though that was lazy, and if she was living with someone who could cook, she should _learn_ how to cook from them—and her big bed was luxuriously comfortable, even if it did take up half the room, and she might see the Prince again today—

And then she remembered, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, the conversation from last night between Ikuto and that odd stranger, that man who had been in the same room as her after—after—

Ikuto poked his head around the door, as if summoned by her thoughts, and she shrieked and threw a pillow at him. It missed, but only because he ducked, and he gave her his most deeply injured look. "What?" he asked, looking playfully sad, and just as normal and teasing as ever. ...Nothing, nothing had changed. Had she dreamed last night? Then she saw the light shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there before, and how his hair was very, very tousled in comparison to his usual immaculate, purposeful scruffiness.

"N-nothing," she murmured awkwardly, folding her hands over and over in her lap. She realised he was looking at her funny, just like she had been, trying to figure out if anything had changed, and so she resorted to her best defence—attacking. She threw the other pillow with deadly accuracy—somewhat surprised it hit its mark, but she wasn't going to tell him that—and put her hands on her hips, wishing her pyjamas weren't so… well, her mama's taste. They even had little angry bunnies on the pockets. Meant to be cute, but also… a little bit evil?

"You don't just go into a girl's room without asking!" she said indignantly, launching into her tirade. "What if I'd been doing something important, something girly? What if I'd been changing, what then? Geez, you don't even think."

His head popped out again for a moment. "Do you have any more pillows, Amu?"

"No," she snapped.

He smiled his usual smirk. "Good. I was gonna say that you were welcome to come in my room when I'm changing any time and -?" Chuckling in response to her shrieking and looking for something to throw, he disappeared back into the kitchen.

Amu remained sitting in her bed. It was so odd. He was just like normal—but ever so slightly off, so slightly that she wasn't entirely sure it was there. She didn't really know him, after all. Even so, she resolved to ask her new friends amongst the school—especially Tadase, her heart sung—about Ikuto and his past. Of course, no details… She didn't want to jump to conclusions and get Ikuto into trouble…

She hugged her knees and sighed. She didn't want to be late. Time to get up and go, and eat pancakes with Ikuto.

* * *

On the way out, Ikuto still lazily eating his pancakes, just as her hand is on the door, he twists easily in his seat and calls her name, making her stop dead.

"Amu? Are you okay? You seem a bit—off this morning."

She shifts her backpack on her shoulders, turns back to shrug and say, "Nothing's wrong" and then walks out the door.


	4. Nikaidou sensei

I felt so guilty I wrote two chapters to make up for the nine months I was absent… here's another. By the way, guys, I'm the sort of person who makes an effort if I'm poked or pleaded with or given the puppy dog eyes (or told I'm good, that makes me blush and deny and write furious amounts of prose to impress that person.) Just send me a message going "D:" if I go all quiet.

* * *

At break time, Tadase popped in to check on her again. It seemed mainly to be to make sure Ikuto hadn't eaten her yet. "Are you okay, Hinamori?" he asked suspiciously, and her heart sang at the Prince being so interested in her wellbeing. "Tsukiyomi hasn't—well, he's behaving himself?"

It hurt a little to lie to him, but she smiled and said, "Yes, yes, it's fine; he's actually a decent cook, you know, so I haven't even had to come down for food or anything."

Tadase frowned. "Don't let him isolate you, Hinamori."

Despite herself, she smiled at him, a shy, self-conscious smile. Then she became awkwardly aware of what she was doing and sat up ramrod straight, looking straight away. "It'll be fine, Tadase. And I won't let him isolate me. Call me by my first name." It came out shrewish and shrill, and she winced, wanting to bash her head against a table until it bled, but Tadase smiled back at her.

"Of course… um, um, Amu." Something in her screeches. He said her name! He said her name! And he even hesitated—aaah, how cute the Prince is, even when he's unsure, especially when he's unsure… She sighed, unaware herself that she had, until Nadeshiko arrived behind her and gave her a knowing smile. She blushed, unable to help herself.

"Fujisaki!" she blurted out.

"Nadeshiko," the girl corrected her gently, with a finger to her lips. "Nice to see you again, Amu. Do we have all our classes together?"

Amu looked down at the piece of paper she had clutched in her hands—trying not to lose it; she did that one year, and ever since, has held onto her schedule obsessively—and nodded. "I think we do. Except maybe Maths, I think you're at a higher level than I am…"

Nadeshiko shrugged expressively. "Luck of the draw," she said, producing a small fan from her pocket and fluttering it in front of her face. Amu watched enviously. Nadeshiko was so feminine, so cute, with her long, smooth hair and pretty face. So unfair…

"Oh!" she blurted again, remembering what she wanted to talk to them about in the first place. "I was wondering about Ikuto's family, or his friends, or if he works." She wondered briefly if she was pushing that last bit too far. Whatever he was doing, it was obviously secret. "He hasn't said anything, and I haven't seen anyone, but I don't want to embarrass myself, or make a mistake…"

She saw them exchange a look, unable to read it, and wondered if she'd gone too far, babbled too much there. "Well," Nadeshiko began delicately, "I expect you know Director Hoshina is Ikuto's step-father, although he doesn't mention it…" Amu blinked. Step-father? "And he has a sister called Utau—you will have heard of her—who is _meant_ to go here, but she's often away, because of her singing career. Mister Hoshina is Director of a company called Easter, who do rather a lot… They have a record label, for one, which Utau works for, and they've branched out with it as well, recently, I think. They have shares, but aside from that, I'm afraid I can't tell you much more, Amu…"

Amu realised with a jolt that Nadeshiko was lying to her. She wasn't sure, because she hadn't known Nadeshiko for long, but the girl was uncomfortable, and wouldn't quite meet her eyes. _There was definitely something going on here._ And they were trying to keep it from her, even though she might get hurt.

She felt a flare of anger, and stifled it, pushing it down so that she could act her best in front of Tadase. Even if they were lying to her, it was probably to protect her, at least… Her expression softened. _Thanks_, _Tadase, Nadeshiko,_ she thought, _but I can take care of myself, really._

_

* * *

_

The next day passed awkwardly, and painfully slowly. Ikuto was quiet all afternoon, oppressively so—not nearly his cheerful, inappropriate self—so in the end Amu excused herself and went down to the common room to do her homework and listen to the burble of people talking and having fun.

She went to sleep worried, but either nobody visited this time, or they just didn't wake her up. She slept right through the night, waking up early. Ikuto seemed revitalised and back to normal, and made her help with the pancakes this time, going as far as to check if there were any toppings she liked better or any ingredients she liked in the batter. He then offered to buy them for her, with an "our secret" air about it. It was fun again.

She left that morning humming and cheerful.

* * *

Her next class was… some kind of science, with Nikaidou-sensei. She hadn't had him yet, or heard much about him. He must be one of those okay teachers—not bad, not great. One of the ones you just tended to get on with.

She got into the class early, thinking that maybe Ikuto was right, and she was being paranoid about leaving so early every morning. She should eat her breakfast more slowly and read a manga in the morning or something, relax. It was a bit weird getting here before everyone else every time. Just her and the teacher. And it meant she had to talk to the first few people in, which was always worse.

She sighed, looking around. Would this be one of the teachers who put them in a seating plan? Should she just sit anywhere for now? Where was the teacher, actually?

He popped up from behind the loaded desk at the front of the classroom clumsily, nearly burying her in an avalanche of papers. "Oh, oh, oh, sorry, miss, sorry—ahh, no!"

Trying to recover, she looked at him, his slightly curly brown hair everywhere, and his glasses askance on his nose, and decided he needed help. She set down her bags on the floor and began picking up papers. "Is any order okay, Nikaidou-sensei?" she asked. "Or do you want me to leave them?"

He looked up, and for the first time his eyes settled on her, for slightly longer than she was comfortable with. "Hinamori, right? Amu Hinamori?"

"Um—yes," she replied, shifting awkwardly with the paper in her arms. "Yeah. I'm Amu Hinamori. How do you know my name?"

He flapped his hand carelessly at her. "Everyone knows it, Hinamori. You're new, after all. Not many new students here, eh?"

His voice was uncomfortably familiar. It would come to her in a moment. She just had to keep him talking. "I guess not, sensei."

"Please," he said pleasantly, giving her a daft, cutesy smile. "Call me Nikaidou, Amu."

"Um, sensei, I'd rather you called me Hinamori… Since you're my sensei…" He had moved from behind the desk to stand in front of her, and she was suddenly aware of how short she was, and how tall he was, and _intimidating_ height could be. Then—it clicked, and she gasped, her hands going to her mouth. The night visitor…

"I'm your sensei, Amu, and I think you know who else I might be. Midnight conversations ringing any bells?" Her eyes widened without realising it, and he nodded. "Work on your acting, Amu. Really. Anyone could tell you were awake—except for Ikuto, but of course, that's boy's thick as a plank, no helping him." He took a step forwards, and she took a step back. "I think we could help you, Amu. Forget what you heard. Forget about me, and about Ikuto. Move out of that room, and you'd be safe. It's not much, is it?"

"What are you doing to Ikuto?" she asked, hearing her voice tremble and hating it. He took another step forward, and this time she stayed where she was. He smelled very different from Ikuto. Almost metallic.

"You can't care about him already," Nikaidou said scornfully, looking pointedly at her trembling legs. "Unless you've got some ridiculous crush on him, which I advise you drop at once. Ikuto Tsukiyomi is just one big pack of trouble, Hinamori. He's practically cursed. He'll only bring bad luck. So," he continued, "I'm giving you a chance to get out now. Have I made myself clear?"

She raised her head to stare him right in the face. "I'm not going to be bullied, sensei. I don't care who you are. Ikuto is a good person, and he doesn't deserve this!"

"Oh," Nikaidou mocked, "is that right?" He grabbed her tie, and yanked her forward, holding her about an inch away from his creepy smile. "I think we need to continue discussing this, Amu, since clearly you're too stupid to back down. You're only going to inconvenience Ikuto by getting involved, and I'm willing to bet you don't even know what's going on, do you?" Amu didn't reply, shaking on the end of her tie. Nikaidou laughed. "You don't! Like a little child, you're just messing about with things you don't understand! How brave, Amu."

She shoved him away, ignoring how her tie tightened around her neck as she did so. With a swift pull, he had her tie in his hands, and pushed her away just as the first other student came through the door.

"Welcome!" he said, throwing his arms up in the air and dislodging a whole sheaf of papers, neatly disguising the fact that he had Amu's tie at the same time. She stared in disbelief. He wasn't going to give it back? She might get in trouble if she didn't have her tie for no reason—and she couldn't tell them that one of the teachers had stolen it off her, they'd never believe her… But the dorms were locked at this time of day, weren't they? Did she have enough time to check?

All the same, she didn't think she could spend another moment in the company of Nikaidou-sensei. She'd risk it. She grabbed all her stuff, unaware that her shirt was ever so slightly unbuttoned and that she was dishevelled and breathing fast, and shouted something about feeling sick to Nikaidou-sensei before running bodily out of the door, to the astonishment of the other student in the room.

* * *

Amu ran past all the other students hurrying on their way to classes, hoping that Ikuto would still be there and that the doors wouldn't be locked yet. She got there just as the guy who she usually saw on his rounds early in the morning was approaching the main doors. She had to stop to pant and get her breath back, and he waited patiently. So far, Amu had seemed responsible and sensible to him. Perhaps this would prove that impression wrong, but he waited for her to speak and explain herself.

"Sorry," she gasped, "I—I, um, I forgot something. Can I go and get it?"

He shrugged. "If you want. I'll be back in five minutes, but I'm not checking on you. If you're not quick enough, Hinamori, you'll be locked in. Is that okay with you?"

He clearly didn't care about whatever was going on her life right now, and she was perversely glad for that. "Yeah, that's fine," she said, "I'll be quick, I swear, just this once." He nodded, sighing long-sufferingly, and pulled open the massive dorms to let her scamper in, and up the stairs. It was unlikely Ikuto would still be here, but he had struck her as the sort of person who left everything absolutely until the last minute… She prayed that she'd read him right.

Not looking where she was going, her hair in her eyes, she collided with him going up the stairs at about a million miles an hour. She cried out, dropping her things and toppling backwards, desperately trying to grip onto the banister to stop the nasty fall she anticipated was coming, only to be gratefully saved by his arm at top speed going around her waist and pulling her back up with only a grunt of effort on his part.

"Are you okay? –oh, Amu! What are you doing here? Haven't lessons started?"

She curled her fingers in his shirt for a moment, feeling completely safe. She'd had an underlying feeling of uneasiness ever since she'd overheard that conversation between him and the person she now knew was Nikaidou-sensei. That had… disappeared as soon as she was like this with Ikuto. He was so _tall_, and _warm_, and his arms completely encompassed her, holding her close enough to hear his heart beat. It didn't feel like anything wrong could happen here, even if she'd only known him for a few days, and he might be involved with bad people.

He lowered his chin on top of her head, and then onto her shoulder, and murmured, "Getting comfortable, Amu?" and blew into her ear. She yelped and jumped, and would have fallen again if he hadn't swung her lightly up to the top of the stairs. "Be careful, Amu, geez. You could break your neck, and then I'd be lonely."

To her dismay, she felt herself tearing up, and she wiped disconsolately at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. He set her down, and looked at her properly for the first time. His eyes widened. "Amu, what actually happened to you? –you look like you've been in a fight." He took in her missing tie, and the undone first button, and her mussed hair, and ran his hand through his own hair. "Amu, tell me what happened," he said, more urgently. "Did someone—were you—did someone target you?"

She sniffed, and he softened for a moment with a small smile. "Let's go back to the room, and get you something to drink."

"Alcohol?" she muttered suspiciously from in between trying to halt the sniffs. He laughed.

"No. Not alcohol. Although, if you want…?"

"No!" she said, too loudly, then sighed and went quiet. She had been saying no a lot recently. It was beginning to feel uncomfortably like a fixture in her vocabulary. Ikuto required a lot of nos. He was like a child. "Please, some hot chocolate would be nice…"

"Whatever you want, Amu. Looks like you had a shock."

"Yeah…," she said, looking at the ground, her near crying having completely stopped now. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." They walked off just as she heard the caretaker shut and lock the door. There was no going back now, she supposed, and followed Ikuto's tall form to their room.

* * *

When she was sat down with a massive, steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands, she felt much better. It was burning her hands slightly, but that at this point, she just didn't care. She blew on it comfortingly, and drew her knees up to her chest again. This was nice. Almost like time with family. Those quiet moments in the evenings when her father wasn't running around after Ami trying to take her photo, or her mother apprising both of them for new clothes; all the clothes their budget would allow.

She sighed, not noticing Ikuto's curious gaze fixated on her, his thoughts wondering what hers currently were. Although she didn't realise it, he was trying to be tactful for once and let her speak first, even though he was not a patient guy as a whole, and it was costing him some impressive effort.

Eventually, after the mug had been drained—a burned tongue for the troubles, but a stomach full to the brim of caffeine and sugar that was making her feel a lot better—Amu latched her arms around her legs and began explaining. Ikuto remained silent throughout the whole thing, although it was obviously straining him. She skirted around the bit where he stole her tie, still uncomfortable about that, but Ikuto's face darkened all the same, and leaned forwards more intensely than before.

"So you know some things," he said, and she nodded. "The edges of things. I'm… maybe they'll let you get out if that's all."

Her head shot up so fast she nearly cricked her neck. She heard the hideous noise and winced, but launched into a quick tirade. "Ikuto! How could you even think of locking me out now? At this stage? After sensei threatened me and stole my things, and I'm _skipping school_, and I lied to Tadase and Nadeshiko, and they're such nice people, Ikuto, but I bet you wouldn't understand. And you, too, you're in danger—I could help!"

He stayed quiet for a second, absorbing that. "Really?" he asked her, smiling slightly, just teasingly enough for his usual personality to shine through. "How would you help, Amu? You're too young, you have no idea what's going on… Bad idea."

"Don't count me out," she snapped. "And anyway, I'm not moving out."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Who made you stay here in the first place, Amu? That does extend to kicking you out, as well."

She glared at him. "I'd hunt you down."

He laughed, holding his hands up as surrender. "Okay, okay, I believe you." He leaned across the table, all his lankiness letting him—she never would have managed to—and ruffled her hair, smiling to himself. "Geez, such a kid. But if you want to help that bad, I guess I have to let you, right?"

"Yeah," she said, trying to sound firm and brave. "And get off my hair. I'm not a kid."

"Whatever you say, Amu," he returned, leaning back in his chair and pushing the front legs off the ground again, rocking backwards and forwards. He was so restless all the time. "But for now, we're locked into the dorms… all… day long. What'll we do if it gets all cold, Amu? Will you snuggle up with me to stop me dying of hypothermia?"

"Not a chance," she replied sharply. "I'm gonna go study."

"Aww, you're so boring. Not even a cuddle on the sofa?"

"No."

"Some people would kill to have this opportunity," he pointed out, resting his hands behind his head casually. "Romantically… locked in a building together… no-one else around… a bed close by… Isn't it wonder—?" Amu glared at him, brandishing a frying pan that had been on the sideboard. "Ah, fine, maybe later then. For now, if you're gonna study, don't you need your things?"

"Oh!" she said, not even having remembered that she'd left them on the stairs.

"Be careful," he called after her, after a pause. "Don't fall down the stairs again, Amu! I won't be there to save you this time!"

"Shut up," was her romantic reply, as she stomped out with the frying pan irately in hand.

He smiled to himself again and shook his head. "Such a kid," he muttered, "but a good kid."


	5. Arguments and Foibles

I'm back :D Ish. This isn't a very long chapter, and I know it took me a while to write it, but school has been eating me, I'm in my GCSE year now and it's quite hard work. Meh, all the usual excuses. Here's the chapter, thanks for waiting, I'm already working on the next one and I have half term ahead of me to :3 Hope you enjoy.

* * *

The rest of that day passed uneventfully, with Ikuto making cracks at Amu, who stoutly tried to ignore them and get on with her work. Eventually, he gave up; just watching her with a lazy smile that he knew bothered her subtly. Still Amu worked on, determined to keep up with her studies—as nice as the place was, it had high standards, and she wanted to keep within them comfortably. She couldn't really afford to miss a day of school, so she was going to make up for it in their room as best she could.

He got bored after a while, and picked up a manga, one of many in piles littering the floor, and settled in. The air was comfortable and relaxed, and the only sound was breathing and the sound of turning pages, and occasionally the rasp of a pen across paper.

So when there was a businesslike rap on the door at about 11am, they looked at each other, surprised, and shook their heads. _Wasn't expecting anyone_. Ikuto got to his feet by silent agreement, putting his manga aside. Amu padded a metre behind him, and rested against the frame in a doorway, just out of sight from the door.

Ikuto pulled it open, and couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

"Hey, hey, is that any kind of welcome?" Nikaidou asked cheerfully, dangling Amu's tie from his left hand, leaning on the frame with his right hand, nearly pushing forwards into the room. "When I skipped my classes to come see you?" When no-one replied, he frowned playfully and added, "I didn't really skip my classes. I don't have any right now. Aren't you glad?"

Ikuto didn't reply, and Amu bit her lip, unable to see him but his voice gliding over her eardrums like oil.

"Well, I came to make a deal's the truth," he admitted childishly, running his hand through his hair. "Amu didn't like the idea earlier, but I think maybe now she's had time to think on it, she might change her mind, eh, Amu?"

_He doesn't know I'm here,_ she told herself resolutely, _he's just fishing_. All the same, she saw Ikuto's eyes flick to her almost automatically, and then saw him wince at the mistake. She came out determinedly, shoulders set tensely, and stood next to Ikuto. Her fists clenched helplessly for a moment, and then she released them, making herself breathe and relax.

"Hey, Amu," he greeted her. "I figured you'd be here with Ikuto."

"Don't call us so casually," Ikuto said scornfully, speaking for the first time, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. Unconsciously, he shifted to slightly in front of Amu. Nikaidou saw it and… _leered_ at Amu, who blushed angrily.

"Ahh, but you're not showing me any respect as your senior, so I figured all the rules were off," Nikaidou said pleasantly, sighing. "Anyway, does nobody want to hear the deal? It's quite reasonable, I think, personally, considering the situation." He tilted his head to the side in a gross imitation of cuteness, and smiled.

"We don't want any deals," Ikuto snapped tersely.

"Sure? You didn't even ask Amu. That's not very fair, is it, since it's mainly for her?"

"Nothing that comes from you can be good, Nikaidou."

Amu watched the back-and-forth, trying to make up her mind whether it was better to just kick Nikaidou out and try filing for harassment, or reporting him to the school—or to actually hear him out. There was some abominable curiosity in her that wanted to listen to what he had to say. She was knee deep in a world she didn't understand, and any help she could get, any clues, she'd take.

"What kind of deal?" she interrupted, aware that the conversation had moved on more into just arguing, cutting through the bickering. She crossed her arms across her chest as a barrier, and stared boldly at Nikaidou, praying she wouldn't give in and look away first.

He looked away easily, and shrugged. "The kind where you end up safe, Amu. Isn't that the best? We're even willing to pay to get you out of this nasty situation. Not too much, mind, but we'd rather you weren't involved, and we're not unkind if you're not unkind. In fact, we could be quite nice if you help us. A nice, big room to yourself, no interfering, nasty boy—because isn't that awkward, Amu?"

She frowned despite herself, while next to her Ikuto stayed like stone, and about as cheerful as one. "What do you mean?"

Nikaidou looked surprised. "You mean you don't know about Ikuto? He's a terrible boy, really, Amu—like most boys at that age, eh, Ikuto? But he's worse than most, especially for cute little girls like you—living in the same place at that person must be awkward for a girl who's still growing up, isn't it?"

"That's not true," Ikuto burst out, clenching his fists. "Be quiet!"

"My, my, such a fervent denial," Nikaidou said, swaying back slightly. "A little too fervent, eh?"

"Get to the point," Amu cut in, with a worried look at Ikuto. He was looking more and more stressed. Like he was just testing the breaking point—Nikaidou was only pushing his buttons, he didn't have to get so tense about it, she knew it wasn't true.

"Well, I would tell you about the deal but since Ikuto here seems to be so strongly against it, I guess I can't," he said, with a reasonable pass at regret, sighing mournfully. He leaned away, long body twisting back into the hallway. "I guess I'll see you around… Amu."

With that, Ikuto slammed the door shut, and Amu winced at the too loud noise. There's a certain measure of irritation rising in her for how he tried to decide for her—she wasn't stupid, even if she didn't know much about this world. And he could have told her, and let her decide for herself. He wasn't her dad, or her brother; he didn't even know her that well. He had his good sides, but this was just annoying.

She realised he was looking at her expressionlessly, aloof. "What?" she demanded, her hands on her hips irritably.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest again. "That man is a snake. You can't trust him."

Amu's embarrassment at Nikaidou's shots earlier at their "relationship" reared its head, combined with her irritation, and resulted in her drawing away completely, retreated into her snappish, distant personality. "Oh, really?" she said, her nose in the air, shrugging and looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him sigh with exasperation and wave one hand in the air in bad-tempered confusion.

"Come on, you saw him—he _stole your tie_, he harassed you, and you want to lap up whatever he offers you? That's just stupid, Amu, and you know it!"

"Oh, really. I'm just stupid, am I? Well, then, I shouldn't talk to you, should I? Might infect you with my stupidity, and _then_ where would we be?" she snapped coolly. "It would be tragic if you couldn't sneak around any more behind my back, keep me in the dark, wouldn't it?"

Spots of colour appeared on his cheeks, and she realised to her surprise that she'd made him blush, had hit a nerve. There was some victory in the feeling—but mainly, more shame, which just her feel even more defensive and touchy. "Did you—ever consider—that maybe I was doing that for your own good?"

"Don't make decisions for me!" To her dismay, she could feel tears beginning in her eyes, and brushed them away angrily. "Just don't! I'm old enough, I'm not an idiot, let me help, Ikuto!"

There was a long silence where she tried to sniff as quietly as possible, and wipe away any traces of crying, and when she looked up at last he was looking at her with an awfully conflicted expression. He settled his hands on her shoulders and leaned in, his head on her shoulder, his arms going around her. He sighed into her hair, and lifted her slightly closer to his level, stretching her onto her toes.

"Ikuto?" she asked, standing there awkwardly like a lemon and wondering if she should pat him on the back or something. Would that make him feel better?

"Sorry," he muttered, so quietly that she nearly missed it. "Sorry, Amu. I'll try to do better from now on."

"It's… okay," she said awkwardly. "Just do your best, Ikuto." She sighed, taking in a deep breath. "Just… don't shut me out."

"Okay," he murmured, taking one more deep sniff of her hair and then walking away with a self-deprecating smile.

She stared after him, dumbfounded. "Okay… so what happens now?"

* * *

The next day, Ikuto wasn't around. He left her a note on the table asking her to write down if she preferred to eat any cereals, or if she had any preferred breakfast, and he could get them for her—but aside from that, there was no trace of him. His room was the same as ever—she peeked inside, quickly, just to check that he hadn't overslept or anything; but no, the room was empty, just filled with messy clothing.

"He could have at least left a message," she muttered to herself, staring at the inside of the fridge and debating what to eat. It was full of things, none of which she knew how to cook—she could cook a few things, she'd just never really had the chance—and in the end deciding on fruit.

She didn't have science today, thank god, although she still wasn't really sure what she was going to do about that. She couldn't skip every lesson, the school would notice, and it would just be an excuse for Nikaidou-sensei to make her life a misery. Come to think of it, as a teacher, he had a lot of ways to make her life a misery… _Ahh, no_, she groaned inside.

Also, all day, she had the severe suspicion that all the class reps were stalking her. Nadeshiko, who admittedly did share all her classes, stuck by her like a burr, even going with her to the toilet—and when she asked her about it, Nadeshiko just smiled and tilted her head to the side in a way that did, unfortunately, remind Amu of Nikaidou. Tadase turned up at every opportunity he could—break, lunch; he was just dedicated as Nadeshiko, although seemingly slightly more preoccupied in his own thoughts. Yaya popped up cheerfully whenever Tadase did, and surprisingly often in the girl's toilets.

She was beginning to be worn down by being quietly polite, and obviously being babysat by them as time wound on. All the same, she wasn't going to snap. She just withdrew further and further, even snubbing Tadase—though she regretted it instantly inside, she couldn't bring herself to apologise, furiously embarrassed that she was ruining her own chances all the time. Just for this once, couldn't she be a nice, cute girl to the guy she liked?

After that, she tried to be more patient and slightly less cold to Tadase, berating herself frantically whenever she was a little rude to him. All the same, it wasn't her fault, but that just made her feel embarrassed. She'd been raised with good manners, hadn't she? Why couldn't she actually act that way to the people around her?

Walking back to her dorm flocked by all four of them—Kukai appearing out of nowhere as well, joining them loudly and cheerfully—she snapped decidedly inside. She was not putting up with them for the rest of the evening. She had a headache, she was feeling sick, and she hadn't slept that well. Her dreams had all been fragmented, impacted by the current stress of her waking world.

Tadase was looking at her, again and again. She could tell that he was worried, but still, she was boiling under the skin. Even if she wanted to make amends for her behaviour today, she was still too worked up to. And she'd never know how to put it.

"Hinamori?" he whispered, leaning in. She started, and nodded, continuing to look straight away, stomping slightly harder at the ground as she did so. Tadase rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and smiled openly at her. Despite herself, she felt her irritation melt away a little. He was so cute… nearly like a girl, such nice eyes… "I'm sorry about today," he confided, "I told them not to go overboard, but it seems like they did… We just want to make sure you're safe, Hinamori. We know you're in a difficult situation."

They went through the double doors into the hall, all shuffling to take off their shoes. Amu kept hers, carrying them on the way to the grand stairs. She didn't say anything to Tadase, her silence stony. She was panicking a little. The others had all gone ahead more, leaving the two of them to themselves, really. She was alone with the Prince…

Well, sort of.

Mainly.

The other three were still there, but they were ahead, kind of, and so they didn't really count as being with them. She thought so, anyway. Papa would have probably agreed with her. So she was basically alone with Tadase. Essentially.

She realised he'd been saying something, and nearly blushed with mortification. "What?" she asked abruptly, it coming much sharper that she'd meant.

Tadase looked down at his feet awkwardly, and she felt the familiar tinge of regret in her chest. She was such an idiot. He was trying his best. "I just wanted to say, Hinamori, that I know we got in your way, and I'm sorry for ruining your day. We'll—I'll try my best next time to make sure you aren't put out of your way like this—we aren't used to helping other people, we'll get better. We put you in a bad situation today, and I apologise."

Her cheeks heated up a little. She'd been selfish. It wasn't their fault. They'd been trying to help her. "'m sorry too," she muttered uncomfortably. "I wasn't very helpful when you were just trying to… to help me. It didn't… ruin my day." It wasn't exactly the best, but she was trying. One step towards being a cute, proper girl. She clenched her fist slightly, feeling an optimistic feeling thrum through her veins with renewed vigour. She could do this. She could be the type of girl parents loved, the type of girl boys were proud to have—the type of girl she wanted to be the most!

She pulled her key out of her pocket with intent, on the verge of asking them all in with her for tea, promising herself that she'd be a cheerful and welcoming host.

Then Kukai threw his arms violently around her shoulders, knocking her key out of her hand and pulling her uncomfortably close. They knocked heads. Her headache flooded back. With a passion.

Silently, audibly silently, she leaned down and picked up the key. Yaya darted in cheerfully, with the same idea. Amu ended up briefly knocking heads with her too. She was aware of Yaya wailing in the background, Nadeshiko rebuking her, and Kukai's repeated, "Hinamori? Hinamori? Uh, Hinamori, are you okay? …Hinamori?"

She turned the key in the lock with a lot more energy than was required. Slightly viciously. The tumblers clicked, and she stepped through the door. As they all tried to follow her, voices questioning if she was okay, that they were sorry, she slammed the door in their faces, shaking the frame. Someone yelled indignantly down the corridor.

Outside, she could hear the entreaties get louder and more apologetic, Yaya's rising over all them tearfully. They subsided as she made herself a cup of tea and curled up in her chair, making enough noise that she could only just hear them. She wouldn't allow herself to feel guilty and let them in. Then she'd never get rid of them. Ikuto would be back at some point. It'd be fine.

She heard them settle outside after about fifteen minutes, the murmur of comfortable conversation. After a while, it dropped off altogether. They'd finally left her alone, she realised, closing her eyes in relief and finishing off her tea. She picked up her schoolwork and began working on it to get it out of the way. Even if she couldn't be a proper girl, she could at least get good results. She was an average student, and she had to work hard to climb harder.

When the knock came at the door, she wasn't expecting it. She got to her feet suspiciously, leaving her things behind, and looked out of the peephole. There was no-one there. Shrugging, she went back to her seat. It was probably just a prank, someone who thought it was funny. Then it started up again, an insistent, irritating rhythm. This time she ignored it for about a minute, until it got too annoying to ignore any more.

She stomped to the door, yanking it open.

Nikaidou paused outside, hand mid-knock. For a moment, his face was purely startled. Then it slid into smoother form, replaced by that usual mocking, aloof look. "Finally alone, Amu?"


	6. Rendezvous

I know there's a lot of Nikaidou ahead, I'm sorry, I just love writing him. He's way too awesome. I think this chapter actually nearly went Nikaidou x Amu instead of Amu x Ikuto… *shot* I'm such a bad crack shipper ;-; Forgive me. Also, I had to dig out my volumes of the manga (I support Shugo Chara 8D) and flick through them to try and remember the original plot and if my characters were wildly off base the ones in the manga… *cough*

Also, I'm no Utau hater, I love her—aside from her squicky obsession with her brother…-and quite a lot of the lines she says in this chapter are actually taken from the official manga translation :D I'm not hatin'.

The chapter stops here because I'm still trying to figure out how on earth to translate the Embryo into a world without Shugo Chara ;-;

_(Also, one more aside, sorry for the really long note—to my anon reviewer, YourWorstNightmare, cheers :D I usually reply to reviews instead of listing the people here, but I can't, since you weren't logged in. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked it~)_

* * *

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Do you know how hard it is to find a moment when you're alone, Amu?" he continued smoothly. "There are too many people around you, buzzing away." He smiled lazily. "Like flies," he observed, leaning in. "And you know what we do to flies…"

Before she knew it, he'd pushed past her and closed the door in one easy movement, striding into the living room with long steps. She hurried after him, choking with anger. How _dare _he invade _her_ place, _her_ space? All day long, she'd had to put up with people too close, and this was just too much, _too_ much!

In the living room, she found him looking down at her messy schoolwork, spread across the floor and table with an opaque look on his face. "Working hard?" was all he said before settling into a chair. Her chair. Indignation boiled in her veins, and she clenched her fists. He noticed. Of course he did. He noticed and smiled.

"Get out," she said loudly, looking him directly in the eyes.

"What did you say?" he asked, cupping a hand to his ear and smiling at her. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Get out," she repeated louder. _Don't stop now_, she told herself. _Don't stop, or you won't be able to carry on_. "Get out of here."

"Just hear me out, Amu," he said easily, "and of course I'll leave you alone."

She glared at him.

"You can pout all you like. I imagine Ikuto just melts when you do that, doesn't he?"

She spluttered. "I've only known him for a week!"

Nikaidou shrugged. "It's that age, isn't it? I forget. Now, forgetting Ikuto for the moment. He's not here. This deal is between you and me, Amu. Decide for yourself, right? You're a responsible adult, aren't you?" She glared at him more. It was the mode of action she felt most comfortable with. "You don't seem to want to move out of here. But I'm afraid that if you won't accept our nice offer, we're going to have to get nasty. I don't think you'd like that. Neither would we. We'd rather you'd just accept our… requests, before things _have_ to get nasty."

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Who are _we_?" she demanded, a lot more boldly than she felt.

Nikaidou smiled. "Easter as a whole. The company. The director. He feels you're distracting that boy, and he's already distracted enough. Any worse, and we might have to… well, again, Amu, get nasty. It's not what we like. Any easy way to get rid of a problem, that's always nice."

_I'm a problem_, she thought. _I'm one of their problems_.

"What do Easter do? What does Ikuto have to do with you?"

"My, my, has no-one told you anything?"

She wasn't falling for that.

"Easter do a variety of things. But we have one big goal, and Ikuto is contributing to us reaching that one goal. He plays an important part in our plans. Easter is a big organisation. Don't think you can save him. His father condemned him to that part a long time before you, and he'll be repaying for him for a much longer time." Nikaidou stretched and yawned. "But that's boring. We're talking about you."

"No! Tell me more about Easter—why do you need Ikuto? What did his father do?"

"It's not becoming to ask so many questions, to be so nosy. Didn't your mother teach you manners?" Amu remained standing stolidly, trying to stare him down, intimidate him into telling her. It didn't appear to be impacting him at all. "Guys don't like girls who are too curious, you know. Jeez, jeez, don't stare at me like that. I'm getting there."

"Hurry up," she said tersely.

He outstretched his arm elegantly, propping it up on the armrest, resting his chin in his hand, scrutinising her with an expression she couldn't figure out. "Worried Ikuto will come back? Don't worry, we sent him pretty far away this time, to get a nice large window of opportunity."

"You did this on purpose?" she interjected disbelievingly. "You sent Ikuto away just to talk to me?" She began to pace up and down the sitting room, an itching feeling rising in her chest that she couldn't quite grasp. She was in way over her head…

Nikaidou shrugged carelessly at Amu's restless figure. "Well, we had something for him to try, and it just so coincided quite neatly, eh? How pleasant when things work out." He sighed contently, glancing around. "You wouldn't happen to be any good at making coffee, little snacks, would you? I have a housekeeper, but she's abominable at that sort of thing."

"No," Amu snapped, crossing her arms and continuing to pace. "I'm not going to baby you. Tell me what you came here to tell me, sensei."

"Sensei?" He raised his eyebrows.

Amu started forward threateningly.

"Fine, fine, you're so impatient. Well… Amu. What could I offer you that would make you leave us alone? We've put a ridiculous amount of effort into this, and I can tell you, the higher ups are beginning to get a little… antsy. They want you out of the way. They see you as something they could just stamp on to get out of the way. Myself, I'd prefer it to be more peaceful. No hard feelings at the end of the day. Yes?"

Amu followed all of this sceptically. It was a bit late for Nikaidou-sensei to paint himself as the good guy. He was acting perfectly, though… If he hadn't threatened her and made those… nasty comments about her and Ikuto, if she hadn't been warned time and time by Ikuto—it might have been hard not to believe him. He was the perfect actor. Just the right amount of remorse and care in his tone, the way he was moving…

"I've only got one more chance to persuade you before things get bad. So, Amu, what do you want, within reason?"

She stared at him. "I don't want anything, sensei, I told you. I just want you to leave Ikuto alone. I don't think he's a bad person, and—"

Nikaidou sneered at her. "Don't think he's a bad person? Don't be stupid, Amu. He works for Easter. Actually, you know what? We're going to take a trip, and if you still don't think he's such a bad person at the end of it, well, points to you."

She blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, getting to his feet, where he loomed over her. "Get your shoes. We're going on a trip. Or do I have to put them on for you?"

"I'm not supposed to wear my shoes indoors—hey! Hey, get off!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, simmering angrily, Amu sat in the passenger seat of Nikaidou's battered old car, her hands taped together. This was kidnapping, right? This was illegal. She could get him arrested for this. If only, if only he hadn't managed to block that in one fell swoop.

"Behave," he'd said pleasantly, after taping her hands together. He was attempting to put on her shoes for her, and she'd nearly kicked him in the head. "That was indecent in any case, Amu. Do you realise how short that skirt is?"

For that, she'd tried to kick him again. He'd grabbed her foot and jammed the shoe on, nearly bending her foot backwards. Then they'd walked quite calmly through the main hall, her shrieking and raising hell, as well as trying to rip every bit of Nikaidou available to shreds. Nobody had been around. Not even the guy at the door was there.

This stank of a set up, and Amu could see no way out of it.

For now, anyway.

Nikaidou sat down easily in the driver's seat and turned on the car, driving out of the staff car park awkwardly, cussing mildly under his breath as the car careered all over the place quite a few times.

"Nice car," Amu couldn't resist saying. Her nose was itching, and the angle her hands were tied at meant that she couldn't scratch it. It was more irritating than she'd thought it possibly could be.

"Yeah, yeah," Nikaidou replied distractedly. "Be quiet, and I probably won't crash the car."

"Do you actually have a license?" she asked, beginning to feel slight worry for herself as the passenger in the car.

He snorted. "No. Does it look like I do?"

Amu went quiet.

* * *

They pulled up outside a deserted café—nearly deserted, there was one girl sitting in front of it, looking bored; Amu looked away, trying to tell herself that she wasn't jealous of how pretty the girl was. Nikaidou got out of the car, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Amu reflected that she might have found his weakness. Typically, it wasn't really one she could exploit. He hated driving. Yeah, that would just kill him if she spread rumours about it.

He opened her door roughly and looked at her. "Are you going to move yourself, or do I have to help you?"

She glared back at him.

Sighing, he hoisted her as if she weighed nothing from the car—banging her head along the way—"Ow!"—and steering her in the direction of the café. When they went past the girl, Amu dug her heels in and reached out desperately, showing her tied wrists to her.

"Look!" she said loudly. The girl looked up dispassionately, her blonde hair swirling around her in the light wind. Amu was struck again by how pretty she was, with her masses of hair up in those two pigtails, and her gorgeous gothic lolita dress, it looked so good on her too… "This man's kidnapped me!" she carried on quickly, not taking time to wonder why Nikaidou wasn't dragging her away—he looked faintly amused, she saw out of the corner of her eye. "I need help—"

Then it clicked.

"That," Utau Hoshina said uninterestedly, "is not my problem." She squinted at Amu, then looked back at Nikaidou. "Wait—are you the one that's been rooming with Ikuto? _My Ikuto?_"

"Uhhh," Amu said, having had the situation abruptly flipped on her. Utau was acting a bit too possessive, wasn't she? Wasn't Ikuto… her brother? Uh. Unless they were step siblings, but she didn't think they were…

Utau got to her feet, hands on her hips, glaring at Amu well enough to do the evil eye proud. "You are, aren't you?" she demanded. "Ikuto's nothing to do with you! I won't lose to you!"

Amu raised her hands. "Uh. I don't really _want_ Ikuto… I just—I don't think it's right that he's doing all these things for Easter when it's not his fault…"

Utau was still glaring at her. "I'm going to be the one to save him," she said, with utmost confidence. Amu had to admire that, even as it was being turned on her. "I don't understand how adults think, using cheap shots like kidnapping a little kid"—this, Amu understood, was directed at Nikaidou—"but you're nothing to do with Ikuto. Leave him alone."

Nikaidou sighed. "So headstrong, Hoshina… She's nothing to do with you, either. If you'll excuse us…"

"I don't agree with your methods," Utau said darkly, crossing her arms with a lot more majesty than Amu would have ever managed. "I can't just overlook this. You shouldn't pick on the weak; you shouldn't need to go this far to get rid of a kid."

Amu watched the verbal tennis, now completely lost. So did Utau hate her, or did she like her? Was she offering to help, or was she just protesting because of her principals?

"It's nothing to do with you unless Sanjou's overseeing it. Leave my jobs to me, please, Miss Hoshina."

"I'm coming with you. Even if I'm part of Easter, I can't tolerate cheap shots. I can't just look away from what's happening."

Nikaidou blew out his exhale, exasperated. "As you wish, Miss Principles, but I don't think Miss Sanjou will like it."

Utau shrugged carelessly. "Miss Sanjou can deal with it. This is about Ikuto."

"What a nice coincidence, since we're going to see him."

Utau perked up instantly. "Ikuto's here?" she said, in a completely different tone of voice. "Really? Why did no-one tell me?"

Nikaidou muttered something, dragging Amu along behind him, Utau following the two of them easily, her hair streaming behind her. Amu was nearly hypnotised by it. The woman behind the till looked up when they entered, then down again. She pushed her glasses coolly up her nose, regarding the floor as if it was fascinating.

"I thought I asked you to wait outside, Utau. Honestly, you're such a bad girl."

Utau ignored this. "Why didn't you tell me Ikuto was here?" she demanded, her face twisted into a childish pout. Amu wasn't quite sure if she was still looking at the same person as a moment ago, the cool, aloof star Utau Hoshina. This just got odder…

"He isn't," the woman replied, in a bored tone of voice. "He was yesterday, but he should be down by the park now. Don't go see him, Utau, it'll just distract you."

"Miss Sanjou," Utau said, frowning. "This is Ikuto."

'Sanjou' let out a frustrated breath. "Fine, Utau! Do what you want! Don't get any closer to helping him, then! Put your precious Ikuto in danger, again."

"I wasn't doing anything before!" Utau snapped back. "And I'm not doing anything bad just by going to see him!"

Amu, quite forgotten, was attempting to quietly sidle back out the way she'd come. Nikaidou was stuck watching the exchange, a half-frustrated, half-amused look on his face. He'd forgotten about her entirely. The door was still open, so she could get away, if she was careful. Utau's eyes flickered to her for a split second, and Amu froze.

Then she redoubled her arguing, nearly twice as loud, and Amu felt an unexpected wave of gratitude flood through her. _Thanks_, she thought, _I'll pay you back for that some day…_

Once she was outside, hands still tied, Amu realised she had no idea where she was. _Um, okay, just going to have to be creative about this…_ She set off in the way that looked like it led to a main road. Surely she could find someone out there, and get Nikaidou arrested…

On the way, setting off at a slightly awkward run—god, she wished she was better at sports!—she thought about that. If Nikaidou got arrested, then… wouldn't Ikuto go down too? What was to stop him taking Ikuto with him out of spite, involving her too? He was a teacher, and she was a teenager. Who would believe her over him?

It wasn't a main road, just another by-road, a warren of them. She cursed under her breath. She had to get to somewhere with people. Behind her, a shout went up at the café, and she saw Nikaidou emerge, look at her with a dark, almost violent glare, and set off at a surprisingly fast run after her. At once, she set off as fast as she could, her breath coming short and sharp and panicked.

"Stop!" he roared behind her, and she tried to force her legs to move faster, to carry her away, not looking where she was going, just trying _away get away, get away from him_. She was sure she was going crazy, because she could hear the sound of a violin, lonely and plaintive, somewhere nearby, crooning along in time to her feet slapping on the pavement.

Her breath tore out of her chest almost in sobs, and she was flagging within about twenty seconds of running. Nikaidou was closing in behind her, she could hear his footsteps echoing harshly on what was now cobbles, more slippery than the road, then it was grass—someone familiar was calling her name, someone she knew was safe, and she angled sharply to head towards them—and she lifted her head in a massive effort to look ahead in case she ran into a tree or something—then the world had gone upside down underneath her feet and what was going on?

She'd slipped, she understood vaguely, trying to push herself up, and a hand was closing around her arm, large and masculine. She pulled away sharply, nearly pulling her arm out of its socket. Warm arms went around her shoulders, and someone made comforting shhing noises in her ear. Her vision was shaking a bit, but she put this down to not enough air, and her burning chest, and just sucked in welcome breaths.

"It's okay, it's okay," someone was murmuring soothingly, rubbing her back in circles. "Shh, it's okay, Amu. Just breathe. It's okay, it's alright."

She blinked, sure this wasn't true, because that was—

"Ikuto," Nikaidou said, in a voice that was strangely triumphant. "Fancy seeing you here."

Amu felt his chest vibrate threateningly in what was—a growl? Had Ikuto just growled? She looked up at him, feeling ridiculously safe cocooned in his arms, and inhaled his smell gratefully. "What's going on, Nikaidou?" he demanded. "What's Amu doing here?"

"I just thought she should see what you're really like," Nikaidou spat, sounding honestly hateful for the first time, "crack her wishful little dreams of you being such a saint; introduce her to the real world. She's so infantile, going on about what a good person you are, so ignorant of the real world. It's sickening."

Ikuto held her a little closer, a little tighter. His voice sounded strained. "And you went this far?"

"Naughty children deserve to be punished," he said, sounding supremely unconcerned. "I would have been nice if she'd just gone along with it, but nooo, as usual, she had to stick her foot right into it." His voice got closer, and Amu clenched Ikuto's shirt out of a reflex. He stroked her head almost absent-mindedly in response. "Why don't you let her see what you do, Ikuto? Do you not trust her?"

"Ikuto…," Amu whispered, trying to pull herself. His grip tightened. "Ikuto," she repeated, slightly louder. After a long, long moment, during which she was trying to decide what to do if he refused to let her see, he let her go. She was both glad and a—small part of her was, she told herself—disappointed to be let go.

She stood up by herself and looked around. People were lying about as if they'd fallen where they'd stood, some gracefully, some flung out in all directions. Children, men, women, all were draped around the park she was standing in like discarded rubbish.

"Ikuto," she began, her eyes wide, "what's going on?"

Behind her, Nikaidou smiled triumphantly.


	7. Commiserations and Kisses

Remember when I used to update? Neither do I. Six chapters in a year, my schedule is just crazy. I'm evidently brilliant. Also, as usual, Nikaidou attempts to steal this chapter. I had no idea I was such a Nikaidou-sensei fan girl. Evidently… I am. ALSO ALSO, return of the other characters! They still exist!

* * *

"Ikuto," Amu repeated, staring. "Ikuto."

He ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "Amu…"

"Well, isn't this nice," Nikaidou muttered, his face purely smug. "How are you going to slip out of this one, black cat?"

Ikuto shot him a poisonous look, and reached out to take Amu's arm. She shied away from him with an almost apologetic look and nearly tripped over the prone form of a middle aged woman. She regained her balance easily, but her eyes were still on him with that confused, fearful look.

"_Ikuto_," she said, shaking her head. "_Explain_."

He opened and closed his mouth several times, remaining silent. "I—"

"Explain!" she told him, her voice climbing steadily higher. She had the look of a trapped animal now, casting around for a way out. "If there's an explanation for this, then I—I'll listen—but—don't just stand there and do nothing!"

"Tell the pretty lady, Ikuto," Nikaidou chipped in with smooth sarcastic amusement. "Go on."

Amu turned from Ikuto to Nikaidou, back and forth again and again. "You're with them," she said. "I know that. But it doesn't have to be that way, Ikuto," she added pleadingly. "Just tell me what's going on and _I can help_."

His face was stony still, flickering with tumbling emotions too quickly to register. "Nikaidou, take her back," he said, turning his back on her and walking away. "If you don't, I'll"—he paused for a moment, whipping around to hold Nikaidou's gaze hard—"I will know," he finished, his tone threatening.

"Wait!" Amu shouted, starting after him half angrily and half afraid. She wasn't sure if she was afraid of being left with Nikaidou, who she was beginning to consider fully psychotic, or if it was fear of Ikuto himself. She had to dodge around bodies on the way. To her relief, they were breathing. They were alive. Something was wrong with them though, horribly wrong. Every single face was slack and blank.

When she was within reaching distance of Ikuto, he turned around. His face was as blank as the people around them, although his was carefully schooled expressionless, rather than the doll-like inanimateness of the bodies. "Amu," he said in a low voice. The taut control there shocked her anew, sent her back a few steps in surprise. "_Leave_."

"You can't make me!" she snapped, more to cover her fear than anything else.

"Can't I?" His eyes were dark. His face was almost bleak. Amu searched for the Ikuto she knew in it and failed to find him.

He took a step forward and Amu took a step back before she knew what she was doing. "Go home," he said, much more softly. "Go back to where you came from. I don't want to see you any more."

And then he walked away, without her following him.

* * *

The car ride back was full of oppressively heavy silence. Amu watched out of the window, conflicted. Thoughts tumbled through her head, turned over, dissected and discarded in seconds. She was too emotional to stop each individual reaction from showing in her expression. Nikaidou was simply as smug as he possibly could be. He hummed underneath his breath happily, looking over at Amu every so often just to boost his cheery mood.

"So now you see," he told her, his tone bursting with self-satisfaction. "You won't be seeing any more of Ikuto. He doesn't want you to."

"Shut up," Amu whispered flatly, still staring out of her window.

"Don't shoot the messenger," he drawled, driving even more recklessly than before to celebrate. They arrived back at school surprisingly quickly, Amu shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs and attempting to look composed. Nikaidou shot out of his seat and opened her door for her, smirking down at her. He offered his hand in a mocking little bow. "My lady."

She batted his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"And we were getting along so well," he said carelessly, locking the car and drifting away. "If anyone asks, I had to take you to the doctor's. It was an emergency, but it turned out to be nothing. See you later, Amu-chan."

* * *

She could still get into their—her room. All his stuff was still lying around where he had left it. They were all just personal effects, so she supposed nobody was going to come and get them. She simply walked past it into the kitchen, leaning on the counters and tipping her head back to lean against a cupboard. Her eyes closed slowly. In a moment, she was surprised to discover herself crying.

Snuffling, Amu cast around for a tissue to clean up. This was ridiculous. She hadn't even known him that long, although to be told by someone you were getting to know that they didn't want to see you any more, that was kind of depressing. That was probably it. It was just a downer, that was all. She would get over it in a while.

It was sad that Ikuto would never get out of Easter, though. He was such a nice guy—she shook her head. He wasn't. She'd seen that at the park. All those poor people. She wondered if someone had found them yet, or if they'd just woken up; how long had they been there? And most importantly, what _had_ Ikuto done to them?

Now that she knew, she couldn't just sit at home. She had to do something. Either Ikuto was a good guy and needed to be rescued, or all the people out there needed to be rescued from him. Either way, Amu wasn't going to just sit at home and do nothing. She was going to fight.

* * *

In the middle of the night, she was woken by muffled noises. She had eventually fallen asleep in the kitchen at the table, and as she raised her head, it twinged uncomfortably, and her eyes ached still from the on and off crying she had done earlier. The noises were louder now; whoever or whatever it was, they were getting closer.

"She should be in here somewhere," someone whispered, clearly taking pains to remain quiet. Perhaps they assumed she was in her room. "I checked the room board—she hasn't been moved yet." Then she recognised the voice, and a thrill went through her body, making her go stiff and tense as a board. Ikuto again. She felt a twinge for the time she'd heard him talking to Nikaidou, when this whole mess had started.

The floorboards in the hall creaked and she knew they were going to discover her any moment. "I'll check this end," Ikuto told his companion quietly. She could hear him moving across the kitchen, and then there was a small intake of breath and he crossed the small kitchen quickly to stand next to her at the table. She could smell him, oddly soothing to her nerves.

_You're asleep_, she thought desperately. _Think asleep_. She really wasn't ready to face him, talk to him yet, especially with him sneaking into the rooms at night.

Amu heard him sigh heavily and then the crack of his knees as he sank down to crouching, his head on level with hers as his breath fanned across her face, brushing a hank of her hair down. She felt more than anything else his hand reach out and tuck it back, and when he'd cleared the hair from her eyes, they were open and staring at him.

His reaction was instantaneous—he leaped back with that cat-like agility and held his hands out in front of him. His expression was more pleading than the stony intensity of earlier, lighter and more boyish. "Amu," he mouthed helplessly, looking around to check for his companion. Amu, as much thought as she had dedicated to whomever it was, really hoped it wasn't Nikaidou. She had seen enough of Nikaidou for a lifetime.

Amu got slowly to her feet, her neck twinging as she did so, and looked at him accusingly. "Amu," he said, about visible in the gloom. Just as she thought everything was going to explode out of her, he lunged forward, grabbing her and dragging her to him, swallowing her terrified shriek in his hold. One of his hands went over her mouth and the other pushed her down to his feet, holding her there in an iron grip. She was right behind the table, pressing into a chair awkwardly. An attempt at struggling resulted in nothing but his grip tightening and she subsided for a moment, trying to pull in enough air to breathe properly.

"Did you find her?" someone growled from the hall. "Nothing in the bedrooms."

"Nothing in here," Ikuto replied smoothly, his voice normal level now to cover Amu's desperate breathing, although she had gone stock still as soon as he'd said that there was nobody with him.

There was a frustrated sigh from whoever was in the hall. "So we assume she moved? All her stuff is still here."

"Maybe she spent the night in someone else's room," Ikuto said, sounding supremely disinterested. "I don't know. I don't care. I'm getting my things and going."

"Suit yourself," the stranger muttered, moving away. "I'm gonna go wait in the car. Don't be long." Amu heard heavy footsteps up until the door creaked open and shut decisively, and then they were alone.

Ikuto's bruising hold on her shoulder eased at last and his other hand slipped off her mouth, allowing her to breathe properly again. He himself slumped back against one of their chairs, practically falling into it. Amu moved herself to the opposite side of the kitchen, watching him in the meagre light available. She could just make him out, his chest rising and falling, otherwise fully still. It reminded her forcibly of the people in the park and she remembered her vow to herself about fighting. Here was someone who actually knew what was going on.

"Ikuto," she began unusually seriously. "Tell me what happened earlier."

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked, sounding incredibly tired. "You won't be able to back out of this now if they find out you know."

"I want to know," she said, wishing herself to sound absolutely sure. She had to be brave about this, or she would never get anywhere.

He sighed again. "Sure, then. I guess there's no alternative" He was silent for a moment before beginning. "I work for Easter, because of my step-father. Easter are searching for the Embryo." He paused again. "We're searching for the Embryo because the Boss wants it."

"What's the Embryo?"

"It's—hard to explain. The Embryo is something that only appears at certain times. We know it has the ability to grant people's wishes. The Boss wants it for himself."

"It… grants people's wishes? That's why everyone's after it?"

"Yeah," Ikuto said bitterly. "Only, we don't really know how it works, we're still figuring out when it appears and what brings it out."

"Is that it?"

Ikuto chuckled, not quite his usual self, but clambering back there. "Is that it? Yes. That's _it_."

"How did you do what you did earlier? What did you do to those people?" she persisted, sure there was more to what he had said, or wasn't saying.

His voice went weary again. "That wasn't me."

"Sure it wasn't," she said acidly, unable to help herself.

"It wasn't. Easter has… methods. The Embryo only comes out when large numbers of people like that—look, some people are able to, others aren't."

"Do what?" she demanded.

"I don't know how it works, exactly, but I know Nikaidou is able to." He turned his face to her, and his eyes glinted in light from outside. She felt her heart sink slowly.

"So you're telling me Nikaidou did all that," she said, feeling tired herself all of a sudden. Ikuto nodded. "Nikaidou was with me for ages before we arrived at that park. Are you telling me that nobody noticed all that time that all those people were unconscious, passed out on the floor?"

"I don't have all the answers," Ikuto said lazily, cutting her off. "Don't ask me what I can't tell you. Nikaidou is clever. Look, take this. It should protect you." She opened her mouth to protest at him changing the subject when she was sure he knew more than he was saying, but closed it abruptly as he rose sinuously to his feet and came to stand slightly too close.

He had something in his hand that she took automatically, closing her hand over something cold and metallic. It glinted even in the dark. She ran her fingers over it—it was padlock shaped. "You gave me… a massive shiny lock?" she said, hearing it come out slightly sarcastic despite her best efforts.

He shrugged. "I think it's right for you. If you don't want it—"

"No!" she interrupted. "I mean, you gave it to me, so it's mine now." She knew he was smiling at her, she just knew he was. He leaned in and sniffed her hair, as per usual. "Get away from my head, pervert," she said, although there was no real fire to it.

"No," he said quite happily, pulling her into a tight hug and resting his head on top of hers. She was surrounded by his pleasant smell and warm body, and just for a second let herself relax after a long, trying day, willing to let the issue of the Embryo rest for a little while. "Anyway," he muttered, and she felt the rumbling of his voice through his chest, "I have the key that goes with your lock. Want to try putting my key in your lock? See if it fits?"

He was definitely smiling.

She reached up and hit him in the face, letting him reel away wounded. "Pervert," she repeated, crossing her arms.

He looked up at her, his outline just visible, and said in a hurt voice, "It was a serious question, Amu."

She sniffed. "Heh."

He straightened up and walked past her, ruffling her hair on the way. "He'll be wondering where I am. I should go."

She looked around. "What about your things?"

He made an irritated noise. "I'll take a few things that I'll need. Just put everything else away. You don't need to hide it." He padded off into his bedroom, leaving her standing in the kitchen area slightly dazed but nonetheless immensely glad that she had made up with Ikuto, although the hurt hadn't really had time to register.

As he was about to leave, he bent down to hug her one more time, holding her for what felt like a very long time. "You should go," she said, glad of the darkness so that he couldn't see how red she was. She was hoping that he couldn't hear how loudly her heart was beating.

"Mmm," he muttered, "in a minute. By the way, I'd suggest you turn over that lock a bit, have a look at it. I can't tell you what to do, but if it's in you, should be able to."

"Thanks for the advice," Amu said dryly.

"All will become clear," he whispered into her ear, his breath ghosting over her skin. She shivered, and felt him laugh silently. "Later, Amu," he said, sighing, moving away. She shrugged to cover her embarrassment, not replying, and was doubly stunned when he leaned back in and kissed her full on the mouth.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was sweet and heartfelt. Amu was primarily too surprised and shy to respond, but closed her eyes and melted in his warmth. After what felt like an age, he moved away. She saw him smile fleetingly in the moonlight and then he was gone, out of the door and walking steadily away from her.

* * *

When Amu woke up, she was tangled up in sheets that she didn't recognise, wrapped up comfortingly in a scent that was familiar but not her own. She pulled herself up to sitting slowly, rubbing at her eyes and realised to her mortification that she had fallen asleep in Ikuto's room. She was sure that she hadn't meant to but here she was. Huh. Well, his bed was comfortable, she guessed, so if she wasn't being moved then she might as well sleep in the bigger room.

_Sure_, something in her said, _sure_.

_Shut up_.

_Stop telling me to shut up all the time and be braver. Say what you think, Amu._

"I'm talking to myself in the third person again," she groaned. "I'm really going mad."

_Don't be ridiculous. Look, go pick up the lock, alright?_

Amu blushed involuntarily as she remembered Ikuto's lock comment last night—or this morning—whenever it had been, ahh. She had left the lock on Ikuto's bedside table when she had gone to bed and found it easily now. Turning it over in her hands, she couldn't find anything particularly special about it. It was hard to know what it was made of, or why it was so massive—she found the keyhole and peered inside it but could see nothing—and eventually she gave up straining her eyes and went to go make breakfast.

She got dressed, ate and went right back to examining the lock. In the morning light, it looked less exciting than the bright glints that had been coming from it when it was dark. Maybe it only worked in the dark? No, that was silly. It must do _something_.

Amu sighed, rocking her chair back. Maybe she didn't have that something that Ikuto had talked about. There was nothing special about her; she was just an ordinary, awkward girl that had got in over her head.

_Don't you want to be braver?_

"Of course," she muttered, aware that she was talking to herself again.

_Ah, good, you can hear me. _

"Even myself is talking to myself," she moaned, putting her hands to her face and dropped the lock. The voice was cut off halfway through an irritable rebuke. After a moment, she put her hands into her lap, thinking. She reached for the lock and cradled in her palms again.

_Good. Now, look, stop talking about going mad. You aren't. You want to be braver, right? You want to rescue Ikuto? You want to stop Nikaidou?_

"Yes," she said, much more sure of herself and really hoping that this wasn't a hallucination.

"_Good_," the voice repeated, becoming more and substantial. "_Just hold that in your heart, Amu-chan._"

"I want to be brave," she whispered, "I want to be brave."

"_Then you can be. Amu-chan's heart, _unlock."

At that moment, she was startled by a knock on the door that knocked her out of her reverie. She put the lock down on the table and went to the door, nervous about whom it would be, mindful of the fact that the last person to knock had been Nikaidou. "Hinamori?" someone called, and her heart calmed down.

"Coming!" she called, opening the door to the whole party of Kukai, Nadeshiko, Yaya and Tadase. She felt herself squirm automatically at Tadase's presence and told herself not to look him in the eyes at any point in the forthcoming proceedings. He'd gone back to calling her Hinamori, which was better for her heart but left her feeling somewhat disappointed.

"We're sorry about the other day," Tadase said sheepishly, "and we haven't seen anything of you for a while, Hinamori, so we thought we could call on you, since it's the weekend." He peered around her subtly, eyes narrowing. "Where's Tsukiyomi?"

She felt herself settling down calmly, even with the Prince. It was so strange to have normal visitors, not people who set her on edge or were dangerous. It was… kind of nice. There was something strange about them, though, that she couldn't quite place. Something was different from before.

"He's… out," she said. "Come in," she added stiffly, suddenly remembering that when she wasn't in direct danger she wasn't particularly good at socialising and panicking.

"Thank you Amu-chan," Nadeshiko said pleasantly, breezing past her and removing her shoes delicately. Amu watched with mild envy. Nadeshiko was so pretty and elegant. Everyone one else followed suit, going through to the kitchen area and pulling up a chair, exclaiming at the size and how nice the rooms were.

"_See, Amu-chan. Just be brave_."

In the kitchen, Tadase stuck his head around the hall corner. "Hinamori? Is there someone else there?" Everyone else seemed to have gone stock still from what she could see. Could they… hear the voice now? Was it not just in her head? Huh. Well, maybe she really wasn't going mad after all. "Hinamori?"

She walked in and perched on a counter, shuffling awkwardly. "You can hear that?"

They looked at one another. "Amu-chan," Nadeshiko began gently, sat at the table, "is this what I think it is?"

She was holding the lock.


End file.
